


A Tale of Two Dragons

by jarethsdragon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Abuse, F/M, Incomplete, Long, Lots of noodle dragons, Noodle Dragons, Original Female Character - Freeform, Releasing chapters as i write them, Sojiro dies, Yakuza, Yakuza Genji Shimada, Yakuza Hanzo Shimada, genji centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-28 15:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 92,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19397395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethsdragon/pseuds/jarethsdragon
Summary: Genji is the apple of Sojiro’s eye.  But why?  What happened to drive a wedge between the inseparable brothers?  The dragons are their only constant companions, but even they may not know the full truth.  The truth that no one wants to face.And that hidden truth inevitably will drive them apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shotahime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotahime/gifts), [iLoveHanzoMoreThanSleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLoveHanzoMoreThanSleep/gifts).



> TW: Abuse
> 
> This is a long story. There is abuse and violence. It is also incomplete, but I am years behind in updating.
> 
> This is dedicated to shotahime—who I hope is out of school for the summer. I believe I promised a story if you took care of yourself as you studied....
> 
> This is also dedicated to ILoveHanzoMoreThanSleep, because she waits forever for every story. Unfortunately this is not centered on Hanzo. I hope this one is worth the wait.

Sojiro Shimada—the Shimada-kumicho—was neither a tall man or a broadly muscled man. He was wiry in a way that suggested he might run a small pushcart of ramen or a food truck and stood on his feet all day. He had had, at one point, a head full of thick black hair but these days it was more white than silver and it receded unevenly with the left side going back quite a bit more than the right. He was covered in small scars and was missing the tip of his right pinky finger as a result of failing his father—Shimada Hiro and the previous kumicho—in a small mission. Only his eyes gave any clue to his drive and intelligence as they snapped with dark black fury.

“Shimada-sama, please...we have to decide the—,” began his brother. The wakagashira—the second in command and his brother—was soft around the middle with the same irregular hair that had started to thin dramatically.

Sojiro waved bitterly. “No. I have two sons who are expecting me.”

“Sir...we all mourn the death of your wife, but both of your sons are with their tutors and can wait until we plan tonight’s activiti—!”

Sojiro was already walking away. He went to the small, green garden where his sons were with their tutors. The various tutors had been surprised when he insisted on setting aside, at least one afternoon a week, time to play. They had argued with him for hours that both boys needed the time to study in order to compete at school. Every other clan did it that way—why not the Shimadas?

Both boys were very young, he had argued in return. And besides, what would a bookish collection of nerds have to teach his sons about the family business? Nothing. And since they had to learn about the business, how to run it, how to succeed in it, who better could they learn from than himself?

No one.

Hanzo was seven and already buried deep in his books and studies. His frame was already muscular, as if the heavy ideas and thoughts his tutors and school gave him were building his muscles to make a mighty man. He also had a solemn, thoughtful, timeless look on his face already like the mountains in the mist or a priest at a temple.

Genji was wiry, a little monkey who could climb just about anything—and frequently did. He was in a preschool sort of program and had begun to do fun little experiments with vinegar and baking soda or hard candies on a plate of water to watch the colors blend. He had a ready smile and played little jokes—mainly with firecrackers or with water balloons for now but was probably going to do more interesting stunts as he grew.

Sojiro sighed heavily as he watched them in the garden for a moment. Hanzo sat under a pine tree with the elderly tutor, nodding as they discussed the open books in front of them. Occasionally, he would point to the open pages before turning to some other section and setting a small pebble down on the pages to keep them from blowing about.

Genji toddled up to his big brother with a handful of grass. “Hanzo—what’s this?”

His older brother sighed, looking up. “Genji—I’m studying. I don’t have time for games like this.” His tutor scowled, tapping the books importantly. “How do you expect me to be successful if you keep interrupting me like this?”

“But it’s a pretty bug!” Genji protested, his legs a bit bowlegged and wide as he pouted.

“Genji! Go away!” Hanzo hissed. “I need to study.”

Sojiro walked out to them. “We can take a few minutes, Hanzo.” He waved at the gaping tutor. “Why don’t we walk around the estate together and we will see all of the bugs, Genji?”

Hanzo scrambled up from his slight cushion and bowed hurriedly. Genji bobbed without grace, his fist still tight. The tutor was slower, pushing the textbook aside before bowing himself.

“Now...we will be back in an hour or so.” Sojiro grinned down at his sons. “Let’s walk to the stables.”

“But my bug, Papa!”

Sojiro nodded, watching as the tutor stepped inside out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s look at the bug, Genji.” His younger son carefully opened his fist to show a shell-shocked ladybug. No one had a chance to say anything before the bug fluttered away. “My, Genji. What a fascinating creature.”

“It’s all red and spotted, Papa!”

Hanzo scowled and rolled his eyes. “It was just a ladybug, Genji.”

“Hanzo—your brother is a few years younger than you.” Sojiro put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “And it was not that long ago when you were catching bugs like that.”

Genji’s face lit up with admiration. “Was it...was it the same bug, Papa?”

Sojiro chuckled. “Maybe so, Genji. Maybe so.”

They began walking on the pebbled path towards the stables. Hanzo took a respectful place just behind his father, falling into a steady rhythm that even their footsteps seemed to fall together. His father was so tall, it was like walking with a giant at times, but the giant was gentle and took small steps now that Genji was walking with them. The oldest soon looked around to find his brother and saw Genji several paces back, squatting over a patch of grass and staring at something.

“Genji! Catch up!” Hanzo hissed.

Sojiro stopped, turning on the path. “Son...please come along.”

“A lizard!” Genji pointed. “There’s a lizard here!” Suddenly, he glanced back and then frowned. “But he’s gone.”

Hanzo stalked over. “Genji—you have to stop with all these creatures...and...and things. When are you going to grow up?”

Sojiro led his eldest back to Genji. “Now, Hanzo. Let Genji show us what he found.”

Genji sniffled and looked up at them both with tears in his eyes. “I guess...I guess I wasn’t fast enough....”

“Or quiet enough,” Hanzo muttered sourly.

Genji looked at the scowl of his elder and then at the patient expression of his father. “I guess.... But it was such a pretty lizard, too. All long and shiny. I thought it was a snake, but then I saw it run—.”

“A lizard,” snapped Hanzo. “There’s hundreds.”

Sojiro sighed. “Genji. It is a small creature, so it might not have gone far. Why not take a look around and see if you can find it?” His younger son smiled through the tears running down his cheeks and began poking at rocks. “Hanzo...I want you to walk a bit with me.”

“Of course, Father.”

“Son...do not be too hard on your brother. His is...younger than you.” Sojiro took a few steps to a bend in the path. He could see Genji scampering around, digging at the base of a heavy pot with an azalea bush in it. “Do not be too hard on yourself, either. There is all of your life ahead of you for regrets and for discipline.”

“But Master Hattori says that—.”

Sojiro grit his teeth. “Master Hattori is...a fine teacher, but listen to what I am telling you.” He put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “My son...you are young only once and when you are old, you will be old for a long, long time. When you are young, you can afford to have a little fun and to make a few mistakes.”

“But mistakes are not correct,” Hanzo argued, his expression perplexed. “You cannot undo them. And a mistake cost you your pinkie.”

“Son, yes, mistakes are not something to strive for. But mistakes are where we learn the most.” Sojiro spread his hand wide so that Hanzo could stare at the stubby pinkie. “I learned a great deal more from that mistake than I had before. I learned how to truly lead my men, how to fix a difficult problem.” He offered a soft laugh. “I learned that my youngest brother told my father, the kumicho, that it was his fault and took the worst of the punishment for that mistake. I would never have known the depth of his respect and loyalty if it hadn’t happened.

“Hanzo...do not forget to be young. You do not have so many years that you can be interested in snakes and lizards and flying kites. You will be trapped in an office and working all the time soon enough—you do not need to hurry there. And once you are there, there is no getting out.”

Hanzo bowed. “I...understand.”

Sojiro crossed his arms. “No...I don’t think you do.” Hanzo glanced at his father’s toes and then bowed lower. “Just...just try to remember that you can be good son even if you have a few adventures, too.”

“Papa!” Genji cried. “I found it!”

Sojiro waved for Hanzo came over to the younger boy with the lopsided grin on his face and both hands curled tightly together. The father nodded, “Let us see.”

Genji opened two fingers and a small brown lizard stuck its head out nervously. With a flick of its tongue, in went back into the double fist. “Hey! That’s tickles.” Genji laughed and opened his hands. The lizard went crazily around his wrist before leaping away. “It tickled me, Papa.”

“I see,” Sojiro said with a nod and a smile. “He must like you. Oh...no, Genji. He is going home to his family.” He nodded again. “Do you think that he will tell his children about being held by a giant?”

Genji’s eyes went wide, but Hanzo only sighed and muttered, “They can’t even talk.”

“Oh? Have you heard them say so?” Sojiro chuckled, taking Genji by the hand. His younger son’s face was clouding over with doubt, and rushed to soothe him. “Now...we will talk.” A pause. “Like big boys.”

Genji cooed, looking up at his father with wide eyes. Hanzo merely straightened and brushed the non-existent bits dirt and grass off his clothing. Sojiro took them back to the path and began walking to the stable again. “I have wanted to talk with both of you for some time.

“I know that both of you will do your best, but you need to know that...that....” He paused, searching for words. “I...well, there is no way to say this. But you both need to do your best to work hard in school and learn all that you can.”

Hanzo nodded thoughtfully. “And then we will be beside you in the business.”

“Well,” he flushed. “That is not unexpected. But it is also not your only choice.” He looked shrewdly at his sons. “Tell me, Hanzo. If I was not the Shimada-kumicho, what would you do with your life?”

Hanzo started, staring at him with wide eyes as though it was a test he had not studied for. “I...I....” He bowed to stall for time. “With all due respect, I would...expect to follow in your footsteps as a proper son should.”

“And if I was a fisherman?” He smiled as his older son bit his lip. “If that was all I was—a man who simply went out to the boats and then came back home smelling of fish?”

“Father...Sir!” Hanzo flushed. “I would.... I would—.”

Sojiro smirked as his oldest bit his lip again. He would have to be careful to teach his son not to show his distress in such obvious ways. It would hurt his mahjong and poker games—any game where he’d have to bluff. While Japan still didn’t allow gambling, they worked with other groups who did handle it. “If all of my days were spent with mackerel and tuna? If I didn’t do a single thing with math or science or finances? Would you want to follow me then?”

Hanzo sighed, “With all due respect, I would not know these tutors or subjects if you were a fisherman.” He looked a bit sad. “I would guess that I would follow you then.”

Sojiro nodded. “That is a proper, respectful answer for a dutiful son.” Hanzo shuddered out a relieved breath. “But it is not the correct one.”

Hanzo froze, surprise and disappointment on his face. “But...but...!”

“What would you want to do with your life, Hanzo?”

“I do...not know.”

Sojiro sighed and nodded. “And you, Genji. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Genji gave a snaggle-toothed smile. “A doctor and a teacher and a ninja and an astronaut and a samurai! And a super Power Ranger. And a—.”

Sojiro’s eyebrows raised. “That’s all?”

“Well, a Power Ranger can defeat Omnics—even the army Omnics.” Genji grinned proudly. “I see it on the television all the time.”

“Oh?” Sojiro snickered, amused. “And are all Omnics like those on television?”

Genji looked thoughtful for a tiny moment. “Well....”

His father laughed. “No...that’s fine Genji.” He scruffled his son’s hair. “It is good to have lots of big dreams. Big dreams mean that you can accomplish big things. If you cannot dream big, you cannot see your next opportunity.”

Hanzo bowed low again, his face flaming. “I am sorry, Father.”

Sojiro bowed shallowly. “There is no shame in wanting to follow in my footsteps, but if you can’t dream of other things, then how will you know when it is time to follow those dreams?”

“But...but he just can’t do all those things! It isn’t possible to be a...a ninja and an astronaut and.... And Power Rangers don’t even exist! They are just a kids’ show.”

“Oh? You can see the future?” Sojiro scowled, seeing his youngest about to cry. “It is not whether or not he can do all those things, but rather than he can see all the possibilities.” He shrugged. “And if the Shimada-gumi were to vanish tomorrow, what would you both do?”

“But the Shimada-gumi is powerful. Strong!” Hanzo’s eyes filled with confused tears. “It will last forever!”

Sojiro sighed sadly. “We do not know which way our paths will turn. The Shimada-gumi may last for centuries. Or it may fall apart tomorrow.” He smiled at both his sons. “Keep hold of your dreams, no matter how big or wild they may seem.” He paused thoughtfully. “Remember always that the Shimada-gumi started with a ronin with a big dream.”

Hanzo nodded again, bowing silently. Genji nodded, staring up at his father with wide eyes. “Yes, Papa.”

Sojiro smiled at them and nodded thoughtfully. “And do not forget—those dreams can be the best things for the Shimada-gumi.” His eyes bored into Hanzo’s red face. “I expect that you, Hanzo, should understand and protect those who do dream big.”

“Yes, Father.”

He nodded slowly and looked at his younger son. “And you, Genji—.”

“Yes, Papa!”

“I want you to keep dreaming big.” He smiled at the awe-filled expression of his younger son. “That is your special gift to the clan, and your brother will be there to help you, protect you, so that you can make those dreams a reality.”

Genji bounced back towards the bushes and Hanzo looked towards him. Sojiro waited for a bit until Genji was again chasing a butterfly and then leaned towards his older son. “And you, Hanzo—you have a harder task.”

“Father?” Hanzo whisper, his voice quivering.

“You must protect those big dreams. You must protect the dreamer,” Sojiro whispered. “Those are the big ideas that will make the Shimada-gumi invincible.”


	2. Chapter 2

That next New Year’s celebration, Sojiro pulled young Hanzo aside. They walked through the hallways of Hanamura solemnly, dodging servants and the household as they prepared for the evening feast and the celebrations. But the father’s office with its traditional furnishings was quiet and soothing.

“Hanzo, my son, do you remember what I have asked of you?” Sojiro asked, staring at an ink painting of the Shimada crest that was on the wall.

Hanzo looked at the coiling dragons and sighed, “To be the best that I can be. To study hard and learn all that I can before following in your footsteps.”

“Anything else?”

“To follow bushido—the way of the warrior. Integrity. Respect. Courage. Honor. Compassion. Honesty. Loyalty.”

“And what do those mean?” A long pause as the kumicho stared at his squirming son. “They are only words if you do not know what they mean.”

“Integrity to do as I have sworn to my kumicho, to my family, to my brothers in arms. Respect first for my kumicho, then my family, then my brothers because they serve the Shimada-gumi. Courage to do all that is needed and all that is asked of me and to demand that others do the same. Honor my kumicho, my family, my brothers in arms and to not sully their names. Compassion for my kumicho, my family, my brothers in arms that I do not ask of them what I will not do. Honesty to my kumicho, my family and my brothers in arms so that they may never question my devotion to them or to the Shimada-gumi. Loyalty to my kumicho, my family, my brothers in arms because loyalty can only be nurtured with loyalty.”

“Very good,” Sojiro nodded. “Your teachers are to be commended. But is there nothing else I have asked of you?”

Hanzo blinked uncertainly, the swirling dragons seeming to ripple on the rice paper. He stalled for time by turning to face his father and bowed low. “Honored Father—I do not know.”

There was a loud explosion outside and Hanzo did not dare flinch at the sound. The subtle smell of sulphur filled the air as another test firework went off. Hanamura’s buildings and gardens would smell of gunpowder and for days after the immense fireworks show. Sojiro only stared at the inked dragons, waiting patiently.

“Perhaps if I remind you of the garden?”

The garden? What could that mean? Hanzo wracked his brain as his nose went to the floor. Nothing came to mind except for making sure not to track mud in the house. Finally he dared to ask, “Genji?”

“Indeed.” Another long pause like before a storm breaks a drought. “What about Genji?”

“Genji.... He is my brother and I would die for him.”

“Indeed. But would you live for him?”

Hanzo did not dare move a muscle. “I do not understand.”

Sojiro sighed impatiently. “A dog may die in the streets as it blindly follows its master, then does it matter if it was loyal?”

Sojiro went and opened a flat box about the length of Hanzo’s forearm. Inside was a ceremonial tanto in a brilliant red lacquered sheath, inlaid with pieces of mother of pearl to form a crane with its wings spread wide. The tsubo—the round handguard above the blade—was decorated with the coiling Shimada dragons circling the hole in the middle and was made of gold to help balance to help balance the length of steel. The handle was wrapped with sharkskin and then wrapped with a cord of silk to form the grip.

“It is rare that a mere tanto is given a name, but this is the Ryukira—the Dragon Killer—that belonged to my father and my grandfather.”

Hanzo bowed in respect as he tried to fathom what he was being asked to do.

“I have told you that you must protect those who dream big and who have big dreams.”

“Have I failed—?”

“You are old enough to be given a task by your kumicho,” Sojiro nodded. “And so, I give this to you, my son, so that you may carry out my will.”

Hanzo bowed to hide how his arms trembled as the hilt and the tip of the tanto were put into his outstretched hands. The gold and steel and weight of centuries almost made him drop it as his father released it. What did a dutiful son say to that?

“Your kumicho, your father and your brother in arms commands you to protect Genji.”

“But...? Father—have I done something? Have I failed you—?” Hanzo stared at then heavy weapon. “What have I done to make you believe I wouldn’t protect him with my life?”

Sojiro nodded slowly. “I depend on that—every day. I depend on you to do this one thing.” His face didn’t move to smile or nod or frown. “I must have your solemn oath that you will protect him with everything in you.”

“O-o-of course, Father.” Hanzo bowed again. “I swear I will defend Genji.”

“In your hands, I put my son’s safety.” His grey brow went up. “Are you up for this task?”

“I swear, Father.”

“He has big ideas, Hanzo. He is like water, flowing and finding new ways and making new channels around and through whatever he faces.” Sojiro sighed and gave a half smile. “He is like his mother, isn’t he?”

Hanzo only bowed. He did not truly remember his mother, only the small picture in his room and an old set of jewelry that was to be given to their wives when they married. He didn’t even truly remember when she died, only that he had been wildly frightened and some version of upset that mixed anger and hatred and fear and confusion that frightened him to remember. That and a terrible guilt for it all. Actually, one of the servants—Sakura-san—had been the one to tell him about her. But Sojiro did remember her fondly, it seemed, and Genji was supposed to be a lot like her.

“I swear that I will defend Genji.”

“He dreams big, my son. That is something that cannot be underestimated.” Sojiro smiled thinly. “He is the future of the clan and I expect you to protect him.”

Hanzo bowed and nodded, despite the stomach-sinking feeling he wasn’t sure he fully understood what was being asked of him.


	3. Chapter 3

Young Genji’s cries echoed in the hallways as Sojiro came to the courtyard. He hurried up and found his younger son sobbing on the porch. “What on earth is wrong, Genji?”

“I-i-it’s H-h-hanzo!” he wailed.

Sojiro scowled and knelt down. “Are you hurt? Did you fall?”

Genji whimpered and shook his head. “N-n-no. We were d-d-doing good and we were hiding in the shadows and he said I-I-I could be a great ninja i-i-if I practice.”

Sojiro knelt down and patted his shoulders. “Then what’s wrong? If you don’t tell me, I cannot fix it.”

“W-w-we went out with Takeda-sensei and he too-took us to the archery range!” Genji sobbed noisily. “A-a-and H-h-hanzo beat me!”

Sojiro barely resisted the urge to chuckle. “Genji—son—it’s all right! Everyone is good at different things.”

“B-b-but I’ll n-n-never be a good ninja i-i-if he can beat me like that,” Genji howled. “And he’s like the best in the world.”

“Nonsense,” Sojiro smirked smoothly.

“He is!” Genji insisted. “And I won’t ever be as good as he is. He’ll always be the best and I want to die.”

Sojiro smiled at his youthful extremes. “Everyone has someone who can beat them. There is always someone who is better.”

Genji looked up at him sorrowfully. “Really?”

“Let me show you,” Sojiro smiled. “I was on the championship kyudo team at college after all.”

Genji gasped and stared up at him in awestruck pride. “R-r-really?”

“I’ll show you,” Sojiro smiled. “Now, no more crying, huh? Let’s go outside.”

They both stood and Sojiro patted his head gently. The long garden was in the back of the estate and had two straw dummies lined up and they found Hanzo lining up his next shot with the long kyudo bow drawn. He took a deep breath and fired the bamboo arrow. It hit the paper target on the front of the straw bundle with a thunk inside the second ring.

Genji sniffled loudly and his brother turned to see them. He bowed low with a smile that faltered at the solemn face of his father. His bowed low again as they got to the starting line.

“Hanzo,” Sojiro nodded absently at both the teacher and his son. “I was wondering if we could join you.”

“Of course!” He handed the long bow to his father. “I will get the arrows and put up a new target.”

As Hanzo ran to collect the arrows and put up a new paper target, Sojiro smiled at his younger son. Genji’s eyes were wide and he still seemed awestruck. Perhaps he should go out and work with his sons more. He rather enjoyed the rock-star admiration of his younger son....

Hanzo was going inside the building to find a new target when he smirked down and nodded. “You will see, Genji. Even Hanzo is not the best.”

Genji nodded and gaped up at him. A sparkle lit in his eyes as he regarded the sudden hero in his midst. “Really? You’re better than Hanzo?”

“What?! Of course I am, Son.” Sojiro smirked down at him. “I have been doing this for many years and kyudo takes time and a steady hand and practice.”

Genji’s tears dried up completely and he nodded slowly as Sojiro smiled. He smirked as his brother walked up, tugging his clothing back into precise place. Sojiro couldn’t resist smiling and waving, “Set the targets back further, son.” He winked at his younger son. “Then we’ll see who is better.”

Hanzo dutifully pulled the heavy straw bundles back and returned to stand beside his father. Sojiro smirked and winked at Genji—which made him giggle and gasp in admiration again—and picked up a long arrow. He drew the heavy bow and fired at the target.

It hit firmly in the 7 point ring.

Genji’s admiration sank into abject sorrow and his lip trembled. Sojiro scowled and picked up another arrow. With a less cocky wink towards his younger son he shrugged, “A practice shot.” Genji let out a soft, uncertain sound and nodded. “I’ll fire again and it will hit true.”

He fired again and hit the 8 point ring.

He thrust the bow at Hanzo as Genji let out another disappointing whine. Hanzo took his stance and aimed carefully. The long arrow slid back and released with a hearty thwap.

It hit the 9 point ring. Then the next arrow hit the bull’s eye.

Genji stared at the vibrating arrow and ran away sobbing. Hanzo scowled slightly and hissed, “He’s been like this since we started. His first arrow hit the dirt and broke and—.”

“Silence! Why would you torment your brother like this?! Teasing him about it?”

Hanzo took a wary step back, his mouth gaping silently. Finally he croaked out, “B-but you wanted us to do our best—?”

Sojiro snarled and interrupted, “And you decided to demean your brother? Clean up and put everything away. I will have to go soothe Genji and make this right.” Hanzo backpedaled and the bow wobbled in his loose grip. “Can’t you admit that you’re wrong?”

Hanzo stumbled as he gaped up at him. “B-b-but it’s just his first time and he will get better—.”

“Be quiet, stubborn boy!” Sojiro hissed angrily at him, grabbing the bow. The curved bamboo wobbled as it was snatched away. “Now you need to—to think about what you’ve done.”

He turned away from his older son and began to follow the wails and sobs. Genji had found a corner of the hallway and a maid was kneeling next to him. He waved her away and knelt down in front of his son.

“Y-y-you said y-y-you were better than Hanzo,” Genji wept. “If not even you can beat him—.”

“Now, Genji—let’s talk,” Sojiro sighed. “You will find things that you are good at.” He made an impatient sound. “You will find that there are things that you are better at than even Hanzo.”

“L-l-like what? I can’t do anything!”

“Heavens—he is human like anyone else! There are things that he is not good at, just like anyone else.”

“L-l-like what?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure that you are good at all kinds of things.”

Genji stared up at him in anguish at seeing his idol beaten. “But he can beat even you, Papa!”

And with that and a last wail, he ran inside to his room and his cries filled the hallways. Sojiro knelt there a long time, listening to the fading cries as his older son approached him.

“F-f-father,” Hanzo whispered. “I didn’t—.”

“Speak properly or not at all!” he hissed angrily, unaware of how his hands curled into fists.

Hanzo took in a deep breath and bowed low. “I apologize, Father. I did not mean to make him cry.”

“Whether you did or not, you did make him cry,” Sojiro growled. “And now he is ashamed of me. You have shamed me with your brazen display!”

Hanzo dipped into a bow. “I apologize again.”

“Bring me the bow,” Sojiro snarled and Hanzo ran off to do his bidding. As soon as his son brought the bow to him, he snatched it away. “You need to be punished.”

With that, he cracked the spine of the bow across his leg. The flexible bow bent and on the second try, cracked. Stomping on the bamboo even harder—so hard he felt his foot bruise—he wrenched the crack even wider. Hanzo’s eyes went desperately wide as he stared at the broken weapon and Sojiro stomped it again until it snapped.

“Perhaps that will help you remember.” He scowled at his son’s horrified face and slung the ruined weapon to his feet. “Perhaps you will remember not to shame me or to torment Genji if I forbid you from picking up a bow again?” Hanzo looked like he was going to scream—or be sick. “And you may consider it a mercy that I do not demand your pinkie.”


	4. Chapter 4

The discussions of dreams had faded in the eldest son’s head as he slung his schoolbooks into his backpack. No sooner had he managed to put it down in his closet in his room than he grabbed his other big backpack. He had a clean towel, a ghi, his pads and his practice swords and rubber throwing stars. He began running to the other end of the estate.

Genji joined him with an almost identical bag filled with similar gear. “Hey, anija,” he panted. “Looking forward to practice?”

Hanzo grunted sourly. “As much as I am looking forward to my math final tomorrow.”

“Don’t be a sourpuss,” Genji laughed. “You love this part of the day.”

Hanzo snorted, taking a corner sharply. “I suppose it is a good part of the day.”

Genji snorted, “I hope we practice the Ghost Walk and shuriken throwing.”

“We will not—but only because that’s what you are looking forward to,” Hanzo pronounced grimly. “He has a secret sight that he will never train us on what we really want to learn.”

They stumbled into the small changing cubbies and began yanking off their school uniforms. Hanzo tugged the drawstring in the top of his loose pants. “So, Genji...how was school?”

Genji laughed behind him. “Yeah...it’s a bit better now that my intimidating older brother has gone to high school.”

“Have the place to yourself now?” Hanzo chuckled as he pulled out his loose ghi jacket. “Could you not handle the competition?”

“Well, it is better now that—,” Genji started, “—aw hell...I forgot my top.”

“Go without it,” Hanzo grumbled.

Genji groaned. While their sensei didn’t technically object to his male students showing up without their jackets, it was a sure sign that the entire class would be devoted to grappling and throws and rolls so that their bruised and scraped skin would remind them to remember better in the future. He wished that he could focus on his skills in stealth....

The sour faced sensei stared at them when they came in to the room and bowed. “It’s about time.”

Genji looked up at the discrete clock on the wall. They were eight minutes early. But still, Hanzo was respectfully bowing and murmuring his apologies, so he followed suit. “I am sorry, Takeda-sensei.”

“We will begin with running. Now. Legs up! Feet up! Higher!” They both spread out and began running in place. “Now, jump! Higher! Running.”

Genji leapt up on command. His lungs burned. He had hauled forty pounds of books and supplies all day, but then the bus was late and he had run here. His legs were aching already as they ran faster and leapt up in the air, only to duck and keep running.

Takeda-sensei walked around, scowling and snarling as he kept them running. “Forward roll! Run. Feet higher, Genji-san. Run!”

Ten minutes later, they stopped running and began stretching. Takeda-sensei kept scowling as they stretched and then began having them work on grappling. With weapons, without weapons—it didn’t matter. The Shimada-kumicho had ordered that his boys be trained mercilessly and that was exactly his specialty.

“No pads,” he sapped at the end of the brutal warmup. “Students who disrespect my teachings by showing up half clothed do not get them.” He pointed to Hanzo. “And you—you should be making sure that all under your care and command have what they need. No pads for you either.” He snapped. “Take off the jacket, too, so that you are both equal.”

Hanzo and Genji looked at each other in surprise as they put their safety pads back in their bags. Standing again, they bowed.

“Now, we will work on grappling,” the teacher snapped. “Both of you should know how to defend yourself without weapons.” He gestured. “You, stand behind your brother. Quite often you will be choked or threatened from behind. So, wrap your arm around your brother’s neck—.”

“Ummm...isn’t this dangerous?!” Genji asked nervously.

“Only if you’re weak or stupid. Now grab your brother’s hand and hold it out. Make sure that he knows he’s in a bad position.” Takeda growled. “Now, I expect you to escape this as you are being choked.”

“Isn’t this a little too far?” Genji yelped. “Don’t we need to be...in pads or something?”

“Go! Fight like you mean it!” Takeda-sensei raised the bamboo sword again. “And if you don’t, I’ll remind you how to.” He circled them as they grappled. “I expect you to do better!” 

Hanzo and Genji broke apart as the sensei slammed them both with the sword across their backs. “Old man—be careful,” Hanzo growled.

“Nonsense.” He circled them again. “Do it right. And if you scream, I’ll make you do it again.”

They reset in their positions and did the exercise again. Hanzo and Genji took turns, wrestling out of the hold, trying not to scream as Takeda-sensei slashed at their backs. Genji jerked slightly, his hold loose on his brother’s neck. Hanzo spun around, grabbing his brother and biting his lip to stop from howling as Genji’s fingers dug thick red marks on his back.

“Do not hesitate, Hanzo-san!” he barked. He slammed a bamboo sword across the young man’s back as punishment. “Your enemy will not hesitate for you and you will die!”

Hanzo flushed and nodded, his shoulder length hair stuck to his neck and skin. He pulled back far enough to have Genji roll up and stand behind him again. Genji’s sweaty arm wrapped around his neck again. He shuddered as Genji took hold of his wrist and tugged it behind his back.

“Begin!”

Genji began weaving, pulling his brother around with all his weight. Hanzo sank down, growling as his free elbow jammed into his brother’s side. Genji grunted and tugged towards the other side. He barely saw anything but his brother’s huge back, but he held on anyway, tightening his arm around his brother’s throat.

His brother dipped and shifted his weight again, dancing and jerking to get the younger man off balance. Genji tightened his grip, lifting the captured wrist and feeling his brother swallow heavily. Hanzo tucked his chin in his bony elbow and Genji grunted to feel the sharp point of his jaw digging in his arm. Genji took another step to the side, his skin sticking slickly to his brother’s. The older man growled and shot out a back kick.

Genji yelped to feel the sharp kick into his shin. Hanzo was not pulling any punches—or kicks—and he felt the bruise growing underneath his skin. Takeda-sensei snarled orders at them both—snapping at them to constantly improve—but the young man couldn’t possibly concentrate on it. His older brother kicked again and he felt the kick slam into his foot. There was a sharp pain and he heard a snap. His balance deserted him and the arm around his brother’s throat tightened as he tried to keep upright and he screamed.

Hanzo growled, his breath cut off as Genji howled and his arm tightened. He could barely believe that his brother was so rough, so hard, now. He heard a strangled, angry shriek and he hit his brother again with his elbow. Genji flopped loosely behind him, his hands clawing, and Hanzo felt dizzy and his sight seemed fuzzy as he tried to grab even half a breath. Frustrated, he twisted and slammed Genji over his hip to the floor.

Dropping beside his brother, he put one hand around his throat and squeezed. Takeda-sensei shouted to keep attacking and it was all he could hear for a moment. His back ached from Takeda-sensei’s wicked swings when they failed. Without pausing, he punched in retaliation.

Genji jerked violently as Hanzo’s fist slammed into his stomach. His breath whooshed out and his whole body jerked as Hanzo pulled back. He groaned, finally hearing Takeda-sensei say “stop”. His eyes closed wearily as he laid there.

“Hanzo-san, you need to learn to keep going,” the elderly teacher nodded. “In battle, do not pause. Do not stop. Your enemy—,” he pointed to Genji, “—will not stop for you. Give them death first and they will not be able to kill you.”

Hanzo stared down at Genji in horrified shock. One foot looked swollen and bruised, turning purple and mushy. His neck was rubbed red and raw—they had been doing this one drill for over twenty minutes—but now also had bruises from his fingers. He held his stomach, too and Hanzo bit his lip to see the red bruise just a few inches above his groin.

“Now it is your turn, Genji-san,” Takeda-sensei snorted. “Get up! It’s time for your turn!”

“He is...injured!” Hanzo cried, his hands shaking.

“Nonsense,” Takeda-sensei snarled, raising his wooden sword.

Hanzo threw himself over Genji’s writhing body. The sword slammed down across his back and he hissed. “Enough, Takeda-sensei! Please! He is badly injured.”

“Weakling! How dare you tell me that I should stop?!”

The elder man was about to hiss something else when Sojiro’s voice cut into the tense air. “Enough, Takeda-sensei.” His voice sounded tired. “My son needs to be examined.”

Takeda backed up slightly, slamming his sword into the barrel of practice weapons. “As...you wish, sir.”

Sojiro came over and gently pushed Hanzo up. “Son, let me see.” He looked at Genji as tears rolled down his younger son’s cheeks and he struggled to get in a breath. With an experienced eye, he looked down at Genji’s foot. “I agree that we should get that looked at.” He waved. “Hanzo-san, bow out and we will take him to the doctor.”

Hanzo growled and bowed to the sensei. Takeda-sensei bowed in return, snarling as he picked up a gourd of what he claimed was water and a towel to wipe his face. Hanzo snarled at the departing man’s back and put on his top. As gently as he could, he helped his father pick up Genji to carry him to the car. At every turn, his foot waved slightly and he groaned in pain. Sweating, they laid the young man across the back seat.

“Come along, Son,” Sojiro sighed. He pointed to another car that was patiently running behind theirs. “We need to get to the doctor.” Hanzo slid into the passenger seat silently. They started driving off the estate in silence when Genji groaned. “Hanzo, get the flask from the glove compartment for your brother.”

Hanzo opened it up. Sure enough, there was a silver flask. He unscrewed the cap and leaned to hand it to Genji. Genji reached weakly for it and took a deep drink. Glancing at his father, Hanzo murmured, “How long before he is feeling better?”

“It takes a few minutes, but he’ll feel better soon.” Sojiro nodded and moved his hands around the steering wheel. “Genji! Drink it all.”

“It stinks,” Genji coughed, sputtering. “And it tastes worse.”

“Quit complaining!” Sojiro snapped. “It will work.”

“It will?” Hanzo asked. “I...Father—. I am sorry.”

Sojiro hummed, making a left turn. “Are you?” He growled at his oldest son. “Are you sorry for injuring him? Are you sorry for failing in the one thing I’ve asked of you—to take care of your younger brother?” He growled again. “Or are you sorry you got caught?”

Hanzo’s face turned red. “I...I apologize.” His fists curled and uncurled. “I did...not mean to lose control.”

“Papa!” Genji slurred. “W-w-where are we goooing?!”

Sojiro chuckled at nothing. He shot a glance at his son. “I told you it would work to give him the flask.”

Hanzo nodded bitterly. He should not have lost control. He should have done something different. Genji whined painfully in the back. He should have done...anything different.

They got to the clinic and held him up long enough to get him in an examination room. Hanzo went to sit outside in the waiting room, idly picking up a magazine. Genji whimpered and Sojiro went to his bedside.

“My son,” he crooned stiffly. “How are you doing?”

“My...f-f-f-foot!” Genji moaned. “My foot!”

“Anything else?!” Sojiro prodded.

“Stomach,” Genji hissed.

Sojiro nodded as the doctor came in. He clucked, going through the normal questions and taking their insurance cards and information without blinking. Then he began the examination. The younger man whimpered, trying to answer through his whimpers.

“No tears, Genji,” Sojiro sighed. “Remember you are a Shimada.”

Genji nodded, staring blearily at the doctor. The man stared at his bruises and scrapes, writing things dispassionately on his pad. He looked wildly around, his mind swimming, as an Omnic came in with a cart. Thick wires and cords looped around it like flopping spaghetti and when the computer turned on, it hummed. He whined, the alcohol making him dizzier and mumbling. “W-w-what’s that?!”

“That?” The doctor looked up surprised. “It is our latest portable scanner.” He patted the machine on the cart with an alien sort of fondness. “As you can see, we use the latest Omnic—.”

“No!” Genji bellowed. “Not Omnics! Not those unnatural metal things!”

The doctor looked at him strangely and then Sojiro’s stern face. “But it is only a scan.”

Genji kicked wildly, uncaring of the alcohol soaked pain of his foot. “Not an Omnic!”

Sojiro pushed on his shoulders. “Son...now is not the time.” He scowled up at the doctor. “Perhaps—.”

The doctor nodded uncertainly. “Well, we would never have an Omnic actually treat a patient.” He looked dismissively at the nurse. “It is against the law, of course, but we have found our patients expect a certain...human touch.”

Sojiro nodded and smiled at Genji. “See, son?” He grabbed and patted his son’s hand gently. “The Omnic won’t touch you.”

Genji quieted, staring at the humanoid robot. He had chills whenever he saw them. They had none of the clues he looked for in trying to figure out how to work with someone. They had only eye slits, rather than the full expressions that eyes could bring. They spoke in an unfortunate mix of high and low tones that did not seem to reflect expression or intention. They rarely seemed to be up-to-date on jokes or sarcasm or any of the pop culture references that peppered normal conversation or interaction. Hand gestures went totally over their heads and they either were confused and stopped processing to query every meaning or they repeated it over and over inappropriately.

They were also completely incorruptible once they had decided on a course of action. Or at least, that was the advertising line. In practice, it made them difficult to deal with because none of the normal bribes or vices would influence their actions. He had honestly never found a way to work with one. Of course, there were laws forbidding them from some occupations—doctors, musicians, teachers—but the most obvious places that a mind that could calculate to the ten-thousandths of a penny could work were often closed as well because business in any shape or form could not function without a certain amount of lies, bribery and favors greasing its wheels.

The doctor picked up to pieces and undid the loops of wires. “Now...young man, let’s see what’s wrong with that foot of yours.”

Genji growled and snapped as the Omnic nurse stood by idly. The machine hummed and the screen lit up. “Don’t let...that thing touch me.”

“Of course, not, sir!” the doctor smiled nervously. “It’s against the law.”

Genji’s head swum again and he laid down on the table. That stuff he had chugged in the car made him dizzy and he hated the taste of it. But his foot was now only throbbing rather than in blinding pain. His father patted his hand again, holding it. “O-o-o-okay.”

The X-rays showed that two of the bones in his foot were broken. The doctor immediately turned to the nurse. “O1Z-Nerva1, go fetch 1.5 cc of Veraxin and a medium med pack.” He looked at the x-rays again and nodded to himself as the Omnic turned slowly away to walk out. “And do you have a preference on color for your cast?”

Genji’s eyes closed briefly, comforted since there were all humans in the room. “Color?”

“For the cast,” the doctor repeated slowly. “You will have to wear it for two weeks.”

“Green,” he whispered.

“Very well.” He picked up a few rolls of green bandages. “And here’s the pain relief.”

Sojiro took a look at the forms the doctor handed him. Veraxin was a standard pain reliever and Genji would be feeling much better quickly. The doctor injected him with it and Genji went limp on the table. With an impersonal air, he took the med pack and began the tedious process of setting the bone. Wrapping his foot in the green bandages, he said, “Now, of course, he will need to be more careful. This could become an even more serious injury if it isn’t take care of properly.”

“O-o-of course,” Sojiro nodded.

“According to these readings, he has had several injuries like this, but less serious.” The doctor looked up with a sudden timid air. “What could have happened, sir?” Sojiro said nothing. “Is he involved with strenuous activities? Sports?”

Sojiro nodded slowly. “But...?”

“He will have to be excused for two weeks at least.” He frowned. “And he will need to use proper padding and safety gear at all times to prevent further injuries.”

“Of...of course,” Sojiro snapped.

The doctor sighed and handed him some papers. “We will help you get to your car. Here is the prescription for pain relief.”

“Double it,” Sojiro ordered shortly.

“W-w-what?!”

“Double it.” Sojiro patted his younger son’s limp hand. “I will not have my son in pain.”

The doctor opened his mouth to say something, but one look from the kumicho made him pause. “O-o-of course, Shimada-sama.”

“Good. And I will reduce your debt to us by 10,000 for this.”

Hanzo glanced up from where he sat in the waiting room chair as they wheeled his brother out with a bright green cast. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and gestured towards the car as it sat in front of the door. Another patient with a heavily bandaged and bloody hand scowled at the car as they limped around it, but when they saw the massive bodyguards and men inside, they immediately turned around hurriedly. He smiled without humor and went to open the front door.

Sojiro nodded bitterly and wheeled the chair to the car. “Let’s help him in.”

Hanzo nodded silently and lifted him into the car. Genji giggled and flopped about in a gangly way before laying on the back seat and starting to snore. His father went to the driver’s side and slipped inside. Hanzo nodded and closed the car doors.

On the way back to the estate, Sojiro snapped, “Did you have to break his bones, Hanzo? Did you have to nearly kill him?” Hanzo opened his mouth, but his father interrupted. “Whatever your grievance against your brother, you should remember that you are brothers first.”

“Takeda-sensei told me to!” Hanzo yelled. “He even said to go harder.”

“What?! Nonsense!”

Hanzo leaned forward and pulled up his ghi jacket. The red stripes on his back from that bamboo sword were still brilliant red. Sojiro glanced and then sputtered, “That? You accuse one of the greatest instructors of his generation forced you to use your full strength against your brother?!”

“He is a....” Hanzo sighed, righting his clothes and sitting up again. “Fine. I am sorry.”

“Don’t tell me that—tell Genji.” They both glanced to see Genji sleeping on the back seat. “When he wakes up.”

Hanzo waited for a while and then whispered, “He was choking me.”

Sojiro only snorted. “It sounds like you are trying to make excuses.” He nodded again. “What kind of exercise could ever justify...what you did?”

Hanzo fell silent again. When they got to the estate, he opened the doors and helped the big bodyguards get his brother into his suite of rooms. They laid him down on his bed and propped up his leg. A timid maid was assigned to sit with him and give him his medicines.

She looked up at him and pulled a folded piece of paper out to give to the eldest son. “Shimada-kumicho asked me to give you this message.”

Hanzo nodded absently, setting a cup of water on the bedside table. He didn’t need to be told what it was—a summons. Sure enough, he was called to appear before his father. A servant with downcast eyes and a somewhat shy demeanor brought him to a rather remote room across the estate.

His father was there in a worn ghi, staring at a stand of swords when Hanzo came in. “Son.”

“Father,” Hanzo said, bowing.

“What have I asked of you?” Sojiro snapped. “Has what I’ve asked you to do so extraordinary?” He pulled a sword off the stand. “I have asked for you to do well in your studies. I have asked for you to learn to defend yourself and others. And then I’ve asked you to look out for your brother.” Hanzo nodded, standing still as Sojiro circled closer to him. “Is that so extraordinary?”

“Father—.”

The sword sang as his father pulled it. “Is basic respect so difficult?!” He looped the sword in his hand. “I have asked very little of you—.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Do well in your studies so that you can be prepared to take the business over for me.”

“Yes, Father.”

“And take care of your brother.”

Hanzo paused and then nodded. “Yes, Father.”

“And I leave you alone for an instant and find that his foot is broken and he has been pummeled.” There was a long silence. “He will be on pain killers for two weeks. What do you think that will do to him?”

Hanzo’s head dropped. “I apologize, Father.”

“You will be sorry,” Sojiro snarled. “You will have to take care of your brother while he is ill.”

Hanzo blinked and nodded. “Father...what about...school?”

Sojiro snarled. “It looks like you will have to study and keep him alive. Doing twice the duties will hopefully teach you about duty and responsibility.”

“But...final exams are—.”

“Silence, stupid boy!” Sojiro raised his sword again. “Unless you want to challenge your kumicho.”

“No, Father!” Hanzo dropped to kneel. “I would never dream of it—.”

“Is that what you think this is about?!” Sojiro snarled, “Dreams? Or are you thinking you know enough to lead the Shimada-gumi by yourself?”

“No, Father!”

“I nearly lost my son. You could have killed him.” Sojiro swung the sword down, stopping an inch above his kneeling son’s neck. “And then you would have forced me to kill you.”

Hanzo didn’t dare breathe. He could feel the sword above his neck, almost taste the steel. He kept his eyes down, staring at the ground.

“Now...go and take care of your brother. Be responsible for the damage you caused.” Sojiro snarled. “And I’ll think about your punishment.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Perhaps I’ll have you beaten.” Hanzo had no words. “Or maybe you’ll just lose your pinkie. We will match, then, won’t we?” 

Hanzo bowed low, his face pale. “Forgive me, Father.”

“I will never forgive you for putting my family in danger.” Sojiro’s face was fierce and stone cold as he stared at his son. “Do you hear me? I will never forgive you.”

“I apologize, Father.”

Sojiro scowled in the face of Hanzo’s acceptance and added, “If you were not already known as my son, I would never acknowledge you. Not after so recklessly endangering my son. I will never forgive that and I will find a way to make you pay that you will never forget that you nearly cost me everything.”

“No!” Sojiro shook his head sharply. “Never again address me as that. You nearly cost me my dearest son and you will never address me like that again.”

Hanzo nodded stiffly and whispered, “Yes,...sir.”


	5. Chapter 5

Genji roused enough to talk a few hours later, but he was barely lucid. Mostly he talked about bugs or lizards—when his words were clear enough to interpret at all. Hanzo kept his books open with one hand and swabbed his brother’s fevered brow with the other. At least, he thought it was fever that was making his brother say such nonsense.

“Hey, Han,” Genji murmured. “Why am I in bed?”

Hanzo stopped looking at the paper of formulas and said, “You got hurt.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Don’t you remember with Takeda-sensei?”

“Takeda who?”

“Takeda-sensei? His exercise? The choke hold?” Hanzo slammed his book shut. “Don’t you remember anything?”

“Not much,” Genji murmured. He looked around dizzily. “Hey...why is my leg green?”

“It’s a cast,” Hanzo sighed. “Don’t you...? Never mind.” He picked up the cup on the nightstand. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Yeah....” Genji’s fingers shook as he took it. “That’s great.”

“Take a nap, Genji.” Hanzo pointed to his books. “At least until I get the profit margins and the ROI calculated for this exercise.”

Genji didn’t say much, only laid back down and closed his eyes. The medicines from the doctor were making him sleepy. Hanzo’s murmurs about losses and credits and debits were a soothing, albeit boring, soundtrack to sleep by. Every time that awoke, his brother would be there, taking care of him.

“Can you take me to the bathroom, anija?”

“Yes, Genji.” Hanzo stood him up and got him to his bathroom. Trying to avoid looking at absolutely anything, he settled his brother on the toilet. “Anything else?”

“Just...what can I do?”

“Go back to bed, Genji. That is what you can do.”

“OK.” Genji laid back down and closed his eyes. Sometime later, he asked, “What are you doing, anija?”

“Studying for my history finals.” Hanzo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to soothe his sudden headache. “Why is Western History so confusing?”

Genji shrugged a little. “Because they are gaijin and have to make things complicated.”

“I suppose.” He stared. “Why is it important that we know this stuff?”

Genji giggled. “Because it’s interesting.” He opened an eye. “What period?”

“The Italian Renaissance.”

Genji nodded. “Leonardo da Vinci? He’s interesting at least.”

Hanzo blinked. “Exactly.” He frowned. “Since when are you a model student?”

“It was interesting. I mean, the guy invented the plane and the tank in the 1400’s. Influenced painting and sculptures for years.” Genji sighed. “It was a time of big dreams. Bigger dreamers.”

Hanzo hummed, nodding. “I suppose.”

“Can you imagine?” Genji said drunkenly. “Being a wandering artist and able to spend days or weeks just thinking about new ways to do things.”

“Dreamers don’t make money,” Hanzo said bitterly.

“Money isn’t everything,” Genji grinned.

“Without money, your art doesn’t exist.” Hanzo turned the pages on his book. “Besides, dreams are...pointless.”

Genji looked at him as he bent studiously over the pile of books again. After a while, he closed the history book and put his papers in a very neatly marked folder. Hanzo picked up another book—advanced mathematics—and began to page through it when his younger brother spoke again.

“Anija...what would you want to do?”

“What?!” He didn’t even look up. “Go back to sleep, Genji.”

Genji stared around at his room, the shapes fuzzy as he laid there. Finally, he asked, “If father was a fisherman, would you still be studying like this?”

That made him pause and look up. “What?!”

“What do you want, anija?”

“To do well on my finals,” Hanzo grunted. “They are fifty percent of my grade.”

“No...not like that.” Genji giggled again. “I mean, what do you want to be?”

“An astronaut and a cook and a Power Ranger.”

“Hey! No fair stealing my lines.” Hanzo said nothing and so Genji rambled on. “I really want to know.”

“I suppose I want to be the next kumicho.” Hanzo shrugged idly, studying his notes. “Then, I will have to run the business.”

“What about your dreams, anija? Don’t you want to like—travel or something?”

“I do not have time for that, Genji. I don’t have time for it now.”

“What...what about...? Maybe taking a leap year or something?”

“A what?”

“A year before you go to college to do whatever you want.”

“A ‘gap year’. It’s called a ‘gap year’.” He shrugged. “No—I suppose he wants me to go straight to college. Then come back to run the business with him.”

“Father wants the impossible,” Genji grumbled. “He’s always riding you hard.”

“Well, for now, he wants you to get well. So rest, and I will do my best to take care of you and...learn about da Vinci.”

For the next two weeks, Hanzo stayed by his bedside. He studied from his books, talking to his teachers on the phone. Sojiro refused to deal with the school, instead passing Hanzo the phone to make his own arrangements for retests and makeup tests. Every six hours, Hanzo would give his brother another dose, along with studying. Hanzo called his tutors as well, having them come to his brother’s suite for his lessons during the second week when Genji was more lucid.

Genji laid there, looking at the television that his brother drug in and doing the little puzzles and playing the games that Hanzo got for him. His older brother was with him all day, every day. Hanzo took care of him, bringing him fresh clothes, taking him to the bathroom and back, bringing him whatever he asked for.

“Anija, could you bring me another soda?”

“Anija, could you bring me a new comic?”

“Anija—where is my remote? I want to see my show.”

“Can I have another sandwich?”

Genji ate the last of his sandwich and looked at his brother. His big, strong brother who would become the wakagashira and then, one day, the Shimada-kumicho. Hanzo dozed in a chair in the corner, bags under his eyes and his face looking a hundred years older, with his textbook open in his lap. He had a cold cup of tea on the dresser beside his chair and a folding tray-table with a single plate on it with half a cup of rice.

“Hey...Hanzo?”

“What is it, Genji?” he yawned, stretching. “More crumbs in your bed?”

“Could I have another sandwich?”

“You just had one,” Hanzo muttered sourly.

“Could I have another one anyway? For you?”

Hanzo’s entire being snapped alert, looking at him. “I’m...I am fine, Genji.”

“But you don’t...eat hardly anything.” He frowned. “I’ve spent days watching you and the servants don’t bring you hardly anything to eat.” Genji pointed at the cup on the dresser. “I’ve seen that they bring you a bowl of soup in the morning and then a rice ball and a vitamin in the evening.”

“I am fine, Genji.” Hanzo felt his cheeks burn. “I am taking care of us both until you can get back on your feet.” He pointed to the cast. “When that comes off in a few days, things will be back to normal.”

Genji sighed heavily. “Will it?” He pounded the mattress. “What if...I don’t want it to get back to normal?”

Hanzo looked steadily at his brother. “What? What in the name of heaven are you saying?”

Genji looked to be sure the door was closed. At 3:21 in the morning, it was likely no one was listening, so he took a chance. “I don’t...don’t want to be a...a thug, Hanzo.”

“What?!” He leaned back in his chair, just about dropping his textbook. “Wh...?”

Genji curled up on the bed. “I don’t...don’t want this—this life.” He felt a frog in his throat. “I don’t want to be a hired gun. This hurts...my leg hurts. What am I to do?”

“You are.... You will be fine. The medication will wear off and you will f-f-feel better.” Hanzo belatedly realized that his hands were shaking. “You do not...do not know what you’re saying.”

“What if I do?! What if I want to have a simple life—a shop somewhere or a school or something? Be a shopkeeper or a...a fisherman?” Genji felt his eyes fill. “What if...what if I don’t want to be a thug in the Shimada-gumi? I-I-I don’t...don’t have a tattoo. No one can...can identify me if I run. I don’t have to do this...do I?”

“Genji! You do not know what you’re saying.” Hanzo checked the clock and put a clammy hand on his forehead. “It is an hour before your next dose—you are still out of your head.”

“I know what I’m saying! I’m saying that I don’t want to die! I don’t want to have other people...others afraid of me. I don’t know what else to do, but I can’t do this.” He looked up at Hanzo with pain in his eyes. “Is this what bushido is about? Killing people who don’t obey you? Is this what...what everyone praises and respects? What about our own Renaissance—Minamoto Musashi and Oda Nobunga and Tokugawa Hideyoshi? Is that what our ancestors called respectable? What is honor and loyalty is about?!”

“Genji!” Hanzo stood up and put his hand to his brother’s brow. It felt cool, but what did he know? “You must be ill, now.”

“No! Hanzo—listen to me. I...I really want to just...just listen to me.” He puffed out a breath. “Just...tell me. Is this all that there is?! I don’t have any marks yet. I can get out, right?!”

Hanzo shook his head slowly. “You are Genji Shimada—the Dragon of the North. You are the Shimada Sparrow.” He sighed. “You are my brother. Take a nap...feel better.”

Genji sighed and laid back. “Go to sleep...is that all your advice?”

“Sleep will make it better.” Hanzo pulled the blankets up, helped Genji roll over and got him a drink of water. “Just sleep.”

Genji did grimace and roll around uncomfortably. “All right. But think about what I said.”

Hanzo stared at his brother. It felt like a storm had gathered around the room, a heaviness in the air. He looked at the pages of his book without seeing the words. Genji’s words had a weight, a depth, that he had never known. Sojiro still had to mete out his punishment, too—for letting Genji get hurt. Anticipation clenched his stomach, making Genji’s bitter words even heavier.

What kind of treason was this? Was this a young man’s drug hazed babbling? Or was it more? Who knew what it was? Who knew this? Who heard this? It wouldn’t matter if no one heard. But if even one person heard.... One person would be enough to make the beating or whatever Sojiro had planned for him seem like a cakewalk.

His father didn’t play around with traitors.


	6. Chapter 6

Hanzo and Genji finally graduated, rocketing through college and earning their degrees. They got cars—a staid, late model stock sedan for Hanzo and a Porsche with all the features for Genji—for high marks in their senior years. When Genji was accepted into college, there was a celebration. That year, Genji got a motorcycle for his birthday and was promised more when he graduated.

The next year, Genji’s birthday was cause for celebration. Both their uncles were retiring at the next new moon, making room for the brothers in the hierarchy of the Shimada-gumi. Sojiro hired dancers and tumblers, paid for fireworks and a huge feast. Even the servants were given the night off so long as they were away from the estate and out from underneath the caterer’s feet.

It was in the wee hours of the morning when the caterers finally left. Sojiro called his sons to him in his office, with a smile on his face. “My sons! We are well on our way, aren’t we?”

Hanzo looked at him evenly, his kimono still precise and crisp mainly because he had not eaten or drunk anything. “Are we, sir?”

Sojiro smiled. “Of course we are. We are on the cusp of all our dreams coming true, aren’t we?”

Genji looked placid and blank in his somewhat creased suit. “Our dreams, Father?”

“Of course!” Sojiro poured them some whiskey, offering them each a glass. “We are going to be united as a family.” He looked at his sons with a alcohol-driven grin on his gaunt face. “All of us in the family business.”

Hanzo picked up his glass, staring at the amber colored alcohol. He had become solemn, quiet. He looked at his brother expectantly, waiting for him to pick up his tumbler.

“What do I dream, Father?” Genji asked suddenly.

“Ehh...what?!”

“What do I dream?”

Sojiro sputtered. “I hope that I have led you to dreaming big dreams. Yes...big dreams.” He grinned. “Who knows? When I am gone, and you two at the helm, perhaps the Shimada-gumi will become an international syndicate.” He waved his hand in a fluttering way. “But please...at least let me see the honor of grandchildren, too.” He took a swallow of the whiskey and wagged his fingers. “I do want a pile of them before I meet my ancestors.”

Hanzo stared at the glass in his hand as Genji looked at his without picking it up. Finally, the younger asked, “Father...what if I want to be an accountant?”

“An...a... what?!” Sojiro laughed, pouring himself another whiskey. “A kaikeishi?” He laughed again. “Why in all of heaven would you want...?”

Genji shrugged. “I want to be an accountant. Open a little place in town and eventually my own office. Maybe eventually an office in Tokyo and then—.”

“A kaikeishi. My son—an accountant?!” He laughed again, his glass shook in his hand. Then he looked at the solemn face of his child. “You’re serious?” He sighed. “Well, I suppose that if I had an older brother as dependable and responsible as Hanzo, I would probably not anticipate.... But come, Genji—be serious.”

“I am.”

“Even when Hanzo is the kumicho, there will still be a place for you here.” He smiled again in a whiskey-soaked way, leaning back in his reclining chair. “I will make sure of it.”

“How?” Genji looked up curiously, finally taking the glass. “As kumicho, Hanzo is free to do as he pleases.” Hanzo opened his mouth, and Genji waved him to silence bitterly. “But I’m serious. I’m good at math. I can be...just a normal person.”

“An accountant, huh?” Sojiro sighed, then shrugged idly an alcohol-lubricated loose way. “I suppose that we could do something with that. Maybe an accountant in Tokyo would be a good front.” He smiled and nodded to himself. “We would have access to the central financial hub of Japan—most every bank is there. And we’ll have an office right there, able to move money back and forth.

“This is the kind of dreaming that I wanted from you, son!” Sojiro cackled. “This kind of thinking is what will make us an international concern. I told you, Hanzo, that your brother is not to be underestimated.”

Hanzo’s flat voice did not carry the awe or wonder of his sire’s. “Yes, sir.”

“Now, I have an important thing for you two.” He sighed with pleasure, the whiskey making him feel mellow and warm. “The most important date for each of you.

“Eat, drink and be merry tonight. Two days—the day after tomorrow—you will be taken into the mountains to the Shimada Shrine. There, you will be taken to the plateau to begin your meditations. There, you will—if you are worthy—receive your dragons.”

Genji laughed bitterly. He had never seen this mythic dragons his father kept talking about. Indeed, while he hadn’t met everyone in the gang or even all the elders, he hadn’t yet met anyone who had. “Don’t tell me you are trying to pass that fairy tale on.”

“It is hardly a fairy tale,” Sojiro said flatly, grabbing the bottle. His eyes started to narrow but then nodded tightly and he seemed to consider some deep thoughts. “Come with me.”

Both brothers followed their father out to a practice range. Sojiro set down the bottle with a laugh and pointed down the shadowy range. Three bots hovered—scant moonlit outlines without a trace of movement—at the back wall.

“I’ll turn on the lights,” Hanzo muttered sourly.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, waving his tumbler. “This is best seen in the dark anyway.”

Sojiro tossed back the last of the whiskey. Setting the tumbler down, he pointed at the shadowy, hovering bot. “Now see the dragons.”

He dropped into a stance, a wide stance with his side towards the wall. With a loud cry, he punched forward at nothing. His fist glowed a brilliant orange—in fact, his entire arm glowed orange with sparks flying forward. Suddenly, a glowing dragon formed. Tiny at first, it was an orange blossom like a chrysanthemum and then it grew into a thick serpent and then into a fireball four feet across. The dragon shot across the yard and, in a translucent haze of orange, everyone saw the bots explode.

“Fuck,” Genji whispered, suddenly cold stone sober.

“It’s...all true.” Hanzo’s eyes were wide as he stared at the smoldering bits. Bowing low, he sighed. “I...am truly sorry, Shimada-kumicho.”

“Ha!” Sojiro snorted. “Now you see, don’t you?” Both young men nodded slowly, their eyes wide. “I have made the arrangements for you to travel the day after tomorrow.”

“What do we have to do?” Hanzo asked softly, staring at the remains.

Sojiro snapped his fingers in his son’s face. Hanzo reared back in surprise, blinking at his elder’s fingers right at his lashes. “First—do not become entranced by their power.

“Next, you will travel to the temple to begin the purification rites to petition for your dragons. If you receive the blessings of the dragons and their binding, then you will return here. Undoubtedly, after the ordeal, you will need to rest and to eat. Then we will celebrate your rise to full members of the Shimada-gumi.”

Sojiro cackled again, looking strangely harshly at Hanzo. “And if you do not impress one, then don’t bother coming back.”


	7. Chapter 7

Genji packed a duffle bag thoughtfully. What on earth could the rites be? How was he supposed to prepare for things that he didn’t know about? He cursed as he pulled out a pair of khaki cargo pants and a linen shirt. Then he pulled out a vest he had bought once on a whim—it looked vaguely military (which one-time-fling Karen said was ‘hot’) and had plenty of pockets as well.

In the bag went a spare change of clothes, his ghi, some soft house shoes and some socks. Then he crammed in all kinds of stuff he had gathered from the estate—a handful of throwing stars, a heavy knife, a first aid kit, a bunch of granola bars and packages of dried fruit, a few sealed packages of water, a roll of toilet paper, a disposable razor and some soap. He added more snack bars to his pockets, in addition to his phone and a spare battery pack.

“Well...I guess that’s it.” He looked around his room. The only other thing that might be useful was his gun. “Maybe...nah.”

Grabbing the bag, he sauntered down the hallway with his heavy hiking boots (also a Karen purchase) over his shoulder. Hanzo apparently had the same idea, appearing in a similar set of gray pants and a coat with an identical bag over his shoulder. His older brother leaned close and whispered, “Do you have any weapons?”

Genji nodded. “A few.” He grinned. “I didn’t know whether or not dragons would be impressed by knives, though.”

Hanzo pulled open his coat, showing a small handgun in a tooled holster. “I suppose it is better to come prepared.”

Sojiro came out, holding a small cup of tea, and looking smug. “And now I must bid you farewell.” The sun cast half his face in light and the other half in shadow and his face was solemn. “You leave my house boys and you will come back men with dragons—or you will not come back.”

“Wow—such cheerful words,” Genji muttered under his breath.

Sojiro snorted with a smile on his face. “You need to have faith, I will look forward to seeing your dragon, son. You will be a credit to us, I am sure.”

His eyes turned hard as he looked at Hanzo. His smile faded to a frown as he snapped, “I expect you to look out for your brother.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I suppose you will return as well,” he sniffed as his son bowed. “You already know that. 

“There is nothing I can tell you. Nothing I can give you that will ease your way.” Sojiro sighed bitterly, shaking his head. “We will see what happens. I suppose that I may be telling you farewell for the last time.” Looking over their shoulders he nodded, jutting his chin. “Take them away to the temple.”

The drive was almost picturesque as they went from the estate into the mountains. Genji looked out his windows with sad eyes. “So, now what, anija?”

Hanzo looked out of his window. Nothing was making sense, but he was trying to remain calm. “I don’t know.”

“But...really? We’re going to try and impress dragons?” Genji puffed out a breath. “Am I the only one who thinks that this is bizarre?”

Hanzo sighed patiently. “This is what our father wanted.”

“This is crap.” Genji puffed out a breath. “I wanted.... Fuck! What does a fuckin’ accountant need a dragon for?” He paused. “Can I get out now?”

“No.”

“Just...let me go. I’ll change my name and vanish somewhere.”

“Wife and children and all that,” Hanzo muttered sourly. “And what will you do when Father finds out? When he comes after you?”

“He wouldn’t,” Genji sputtered softly.

“He would,” Hanzo muttered. “He will never let you go.”

“Never let either of us go.”

“Probably.” 

Genji watched as trees and gardens passed by the smoked glass. “So, what do you suppose the temple will be like?”

Hanzo shrugged and closed his eyes. “We will see when we get there.”

They drove on and on—almost to nightfall—before they reached the temple. The driver stepped out and pulled out their bags. Without more than a word or two of good-bye—enough for polite and proper farewell—he drove off.

“Well...let’s see the temple,” Genji grinned.

They picked up their bags and walked the pale stone pathway. A single paper lantern was lit in front of a huge, old building. There was a thick smell of decaying wood and old paper as they walked through with the old building. The cold hallway seemed filled with darkness and decay as they were led to the single, empty room except for an old monk standing there.

“Sleep here tonight.” The old monk seemed almost a ghost in his worn gray robes and his bald head in the dim moonlight. His eyes were a startling shade that appeared almost white in the dim light. “We will begin the rites in the morning.”

Genji put his bag in a corner, staring at the moonlight through the almost completely bare window. He sat down with a calm he didn’t feel and looked at his brother. “So, now what do we do now?”

A metal can hit his leg. Genji picked it up, unable to see in the darkness. “What’s this?”

“Bug repellent,” Hanzo muttered.

Genji sprayed it over his body, his nose wrinkling at the heavy chemical smell. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He paused. “Keep it—I have a second bottle.”

“Oh.” Genji put the bottle in a pocket. “Thanks again, anija.” There was no answer other than a dark shuffle in the opposite corner. “Thanks for looking out for me...again.” He rolled the bottle in his hand. “You’re always...looking out for me, aren’t you?”

Hanzo went a bit pale and turned away with a gruff sound. “Go to sleep, Genji.”

“You are always telling me that.”

“It remains good advice,” he whispered. They paused in the still air with a crackle of anticipation. “I suppose that all that remains is to wish you good luck.”

“You too, anija.” Genji watched as he nodded. A monk knocked at the door just then, sliding open the door and beckoning to his brother. Hanzo slid out, disappearing as the door slid shut, separating them. “Get some sleep, anija.”

The next day, they were taken through the hallways. Young and old monks—shaven heads and folded robes of gray or white or palest orange—seemed to line the hallways. Every one of them had a small candle in their palms, and stared at the brothers with solemn, white colored eyes that glistened like pearls and reflected nothing dully. Genji stared into their eyes and icy tendrils went down his spine that they didn’t seem to be looking at him back.

The monk—at least, they assumed it was a monk—was an androgynous form wrapped in gray fabric so thin that it seemed a mere layer of dust over the frail form. A veil of pale orange covered the old, bald head and his eyes were so pale a gray or blue they seemed white.

“So you are here at last,” came the whispery voice. “To seek the blessing of dragons.”

“Who are you?!” Hanzo demanded. “What—?!”

The monks all chuckled softly, their candles’ light never flickering. “I...I am the...first,” said the old form. “And we will help you with the rites.”

Hanzo and Genji were immediately separated by almost identical monks stepping between between them and led to different hallways. Genji sighed, patiently undoing his clothes to put on the ritual clothes—a long wrap of cloth that seemed to form a toga type outfit.

“First, there is ritual cleansing,” the monk next to him said.

Genji looked around and saw only an empty room with a slate floor surrounded by worn thin paper walls. An elaborate drawing of regular arcs was on the floor formed an almost floral pattern. Characters of an unfamiliar kind were in certain spots—no particular pattern he could find, but an obviously deliberate placement nonetheless. The monk motioned to a spot and Genji knelt there, looking around to see if there was anything else and surprised to see that no one was there.

The room was empty, except for him.

He sighed, praying for some random guidance that seemed to go nowhere. So...now what? He looked around again and there was no sign of anything. He could only see the sigils and arcs. Even through the holes in the walls, he could not see anything.

“So...I guess this is where I start praying?” Genji asked no one. “Could you please help? I don’t know what...what to do.” He listened, hearing nothing. “I need your help.”

For three hours, he knelt and waited for something to happen. The room was—at best—cool and musty. The wind picked up outside and he felt the atmosphere shift. Looking up, he saw a cloudy day through the holes in the ceiling.

“Of course—holes in the ceiling. There had to be holes in the ceiling,” Genji muttered. He looked around and shouted, “Hey! Anyone there?! It’s gonna rain.”

There was a musical laugh—high pitched and nerve-rattling—and then a soft voice said, “Do not leave the circle until you are pure.”

“Which circle? Where?!” Genji looked around at the sweeping semi-circles. “There’s like a zillion circles here.”

“Do not leave until you are pure.”

Genji glanced around and found a loose pattern of arcs around him that formed a circle. He stared for a moment, uncertain that he had seen the circle at the first. He was sure he would have noticed a perfect circle, but he distinctly remembered seeing arcs forming sharp pointed ovals like clover petals. “When will I be pure?”

“When you are pure.”

Genji rolled his eyes, staring at the sky. Lightning cracked overhead with an accompanying roll of thunder. A sheet of rain began to pour down over him and he shuddered violently as he was suddenly chilled. The thin toga sheet was no comfort either—it only held the chill of the rainwater and became almost transparent as it was soaked. He could pick out practically every hair on his body as it dripped.

“Hey, guys! I’m wet all over now!” He wrapped his fabric closer to himself. “And the cold isn’t exactly doing me any favors.”

There was no answer except for another soft laugh.

“Fuck me....” He stood and whirled around—expecting to see a chorus of monks around him. There was no one—none of the paper walls around him were even lit. He plopped down and the pavement underneath him splashed. “What the hell does an accountant need with a dragon, anyway?”

He huddled throughout the storm, watching as the lightning cracked over his head. Eventually, it blew itself out. The clouds blew away in a rush of whistling wind to show clear skies with star twinkling overhead. Genji shivered again, wrapping his arms around himself and counted the twelve stars over and over, waiting for the dawn.

At dawn, it was no better. The monks brought in small bowls with sticks of incense in them. The smoky stuff seemed to linger in the air, sticking into air of the room rather than flowing through the many leaking holes in the paper walls. He coughed over and over, too choked up to see the monks as they took out bowls of silver and began sprinkling him over and over with the water.

He was given a small meal at midday—a small bowl of clear broth—before being surrounded with small screens that came up to his chest. Another small bowl was passed underneath the screen and all of the monks turned away. Genji’s face fell as he realized from the smell what this was. As soon as he relieved himself, they took everything away and left him to the elements.

He lost count of the number of days that he was in that endless cycle of cool and rain and wind. He got a meal every so often—a bowl of broth or a small plate of vegetables—and relief in the room. No one spoke to him about his brother and when he asked, they only turned around and giggled like girls.

Genji sighed in resignation. They would not answer him no matter what he said. He shouted. He whispered. He tried riddles, word games, insults, kowtowing respect, blatant disrespect. He even flirted with one. There was only silence and lowered eyes as they came in once a day to take care of him. Finally, he was silent—mainly out of spite to see this through and find a dragon to burn this wretched place down. The third or fourth silent day—it was hard to tell when the days ran together in a never ending cycle of blurry gray clouds and rain—as the monks took away the screens and the noxious bowl and the chipped bowl that held his soup, he saw that they had left behind something.

A small candle of pale ivory wax burned on the floor beside him. On the smooth side, there was a red kanji character for “hope”. Or...maybe it was...? It was one character painted in a rather hasty and messy way. It was almost indistinct, as though the paintbrush was very old and the paint dried and even older.

That made him giggle at the sheer audacity of it. Hope? What was there to hope for in this place? Some light and some warmth—that was about all he wanted. Well, maybe some clothes, too. He sighed in pleasure to see the little flame, could stare at it for hours. He dared to pick it up, cradle it close to his body.

His hands shook from his joy at the tiny circle of warmth and light. It was more than his life—his baby—curled close as a mother’s womb. He clenched his muscles as tight as he could to keep it still, but his hands still shook. Hot wax dripped to his palm, making him hiss in pain—but even that pain was blessed because for a few moments, it was warmth.

That night he curled on his side around the wafer thin candle. Only the bottom of the red paint strokes showed now as the flame flickered in the uncertain evening air. He had to laugh—hope was almost gone. He had long since run out of spatters and drips of wax to add to the top to make it last.

Hope was almost gone and he’d be alone in the dark again.

Genji almost missed the soft voice that whispered, “Hope is not gone.”

He sat up, almost blowing the small candle out, as he looked around. “W-w-who’s...there?!”

Everything was silent. There was no one that he could see. The air smelled its usual clean, fresh and wet way. He couldn’t hear anyone—not a breath or a movement or even a fluttering of the paper hanging in wet strips from the frames on the walls.

He called out again, “Is someone there?” He dropped his voice to a whisper, sure that his voice was booming in the quiet room. He didn’t hear even a rustle more than the noise he was making. “Ahh...who just...spoke?”

Nothing else stirred. He waited for eons, listening to the silence and the drops of water dripping from the beams and paper walls. There was still nothing, no matter what he did, no matter how much he whispered or called out or how much he was quiet. There was not even the illusion of shadows moving on the paper walls. There seemed to be no one in the whole temple except him.

Genji huddled around the candle again, watching as “hope” vanished. As drips slid down the shaft, he scraped at them and broke them to put the pieces back on the top to preserve the only light left in his world. Even when he could practically see the column of wax shrinking, he continued to feed it wax to make it last as long as he could. The candle burned down and became a thin puddle of nothing. Still, he listened for the voice until he fell asleep on the floor. 

He slept until the sun came up and the room filled with the smell of petrichor. He sat up stiffly, shakily getting to a cross-legged seat on the floor. He brushed his hair out of his face. All the rain had ruined it, of course. The oil and mousse and spray had run out in a sticky mess the first day, only to be rinsed off his skin in the repeating rains. His beard was a rough and scrubby mess, too. He would kill for a razor and a comb....

Then he saw the small line of tiny, thin candles leading to a small tray. There was a handful of nuts in an ancient carved bowl, several pieces of fruit, a bowl of hot rice with red beans, and an actual pot of hot tea next to a cup. It seemed too good to be true. After days of minuscule bowls of soup, a feast?

He stood up, ready to step, but something made him stop. Of course, there was no one here to kindly give him any advice or instruction one way or another. He stared at the line of candles, but they were only plain pale candles. “Anyone here? Any advice?”

For a moment, he didn’t hear anything. Disappointed, he looked at the feast. Was Sojiro really serious that he couldn’t come home without a dragon? And where would he go if he didn’t go back to his home? Could he really go...be an accountant? Without the money flowing into his pockets—what would happen to him then? His stomach rumbled uncomfortably as he thought of being alone and cold and out of work.

Could he do it? Could he leave the world of what he knew and go into an office and not have Sojiro’s backing? How on earth did people just do that? Just up and leave their parents and whatever their parents did to go to the cities and look at papers or ads and just get a job?

Well, no matter what, he was sure that accountants did not need to do stupid rituals to get dragons.

Which meant that he could leave this place and stop this idiotic crap. He could leave and go and get warm and a real meal and simply not have a dragon. The. he could get a newspaper and find a job. He felt the chill in his bones. Sojiro never said anything he didn’t mean. Which meant—death if he couldn’t impress a dragon. Even if Sojiro let him live, he felt sure that his chances were slim outside the Shimada-gumi. Genji looked at the steaming bowl of rice and red beans and wondered if a hot meal was worth it.

He was about to give up when a silent monk in the same washed-out grey with those strange white eyes came in with a pile of folded clothes. “Ahhh...hey. Excuse me, but could you tell me...?”

The monk knelt to set the pile next to the tray. The bald head turned towards him with those dead white eyes and the half smirk on his face. Then, just as placidly, the monk turned back to the folded cloth, stroked it gently with a finger and left. Before Genji could say or do anything, two more monks came in to stand in front of him.

The first one had a narrow but wide silver tray covered in strings of beads in a rainbow of colors. His white-eyed face was solemn and half covered with a thick gray cloth as he stared at Genji. The second one had all the appearances of being much younger, but his eyes seemed to be a hundred years older than Genji had ever seen.

They stood in front of Genji without moving. Growling, the young man stood up, trying desperately to keep some kind of modesty in the thin cloth around his body. Neither of the monks looked at him or moved or smiled—which was more unnerving than if they had giggled nervously or pointed.

“Can I...help you?” he asked, more out of desperation to break the silence than anything else.

The younger monk leaned to the one with the covered face, nodded silently and then turned back to Genji. His voice alternated between the high tones of a youth going through puberty and the harsh and hoarse tones of an elder about to die. “The honorable Gift Keeper asks that you choose two gifts for the next trial.”

Genji frowned, staring at them and the tray. “I...don’t understand.”

The younger monk bowed slightly and then went back to the other one. Again he nodded and bobbed, as though intent on discovering the silent monk’s meaning, before turning again to Genji. “You must choose two gifts.” He pointed to the tray and the strings of beads that were stacked on the tray. Every strand lay straight across, the tails dangling carelessly over the edges. The beads were made of all kinds of materials—stone, glass, gemstone, clay, ceramic—in every color he had ever imagined. The debatably younger monk nodded earnestly and continued, “One gift is for you to keep and the other is for you to give.”

Genji frowned. “So...I take two strands of beads.” Another solemn nod. “And then what?”

“Oh...then you must refresh yourself for the next trial.” He waved at the tray. “We are simple monks, but we hope that you will enjoy your meal.”

Genji took in a deep breath. “Next trial. Right.” He looked at them both. “So...who was whispering here last night? Is there like...hidden cameras?”

There was another long pause of silent nodding and communication. If any actual words were spoken, it was impossible to tell. The masked monk remained stock still, holding the tray. The smaller one nodded and looked earnestly.

“The Gift Keeper asks—why do you ask?”

“I heard someone last night.” Genji frowned at their blank faces. “Someone left a...a candle here last night with the word ‘hope’ painted on it.” He looked at the ground and found not the slightest trace of the candle. There wasn’t even the thinnest layer of wax on the stone floor. “Then, as it was about out, someone said ‘hope is not gone’.”

More nodding and earnest looks. The younger monk glanced nervously over to Genji and then back before nodding again.

“Look...I’m not crazy. It really did happen.”

The younger monk’s eyes grew wide briefly as he stared and then he nodded one last time. “Of...of course not.” He bowed low. “We....” He lapsed into silence, standing and looking at Genji. “Please...select two gifts.”

“Yeah..yeah. One to keep and one to give.” Genji stared at the beads. Who would want a gift of a set of plain beads? Except for him and he was only taking them to be polite and get this over with. He reached to snatch a lovely turquoise strand layered with mottled black veins. While the stones were quite, quite common and worthless, they glistened with deep, rich color.

Instead, a string of oblong glass beads in a brilliant blond-green shot to his hand. He stared at them in confusion. His hand had been over six inches away from the tray—there was no way that he could have gotten a hold of the beads from here, but there it was with a lime green tassel of silk thread on one end and a silver charm dangling from the other.

The young monk squatted down, staring at the strand as it lay across his palm like a dead snake. His slender hand reached for the tail end and he showed it to Genji. The silver charm was on the end of it in the shape of the character ‘hope’. He nodded thoughtfully. “This is the gift you must keep.” He gestured back to the tray. “So the next is the gift you must give.”

Genji folded the beads in his palm and reached for the turquoise beads again. Several inches from the tray, another strand shot into his hand before going limp across his palm. The monk bent again and showed him the beads. These were black and slightly lumpy and rough, as though they were made of round bits of charcoal. At the tail end was another small, round silver charm with the characters carved out of it for “forgiveness”.

The monk offered no comment, only nodded at the Gift Keeper before he left and then bowing to Genji gracefully. “Please, eat and be dressed.”

The young man grinned—he couldn’t help it. His hand gripped the beads and for a moment, he wanted to put them in his pocket and then chuckled to realize he had no pockets in his clumsy toga. “Gladly!” He stared at the beads again. “I’m starved.”

The monk’s face was still placid and showed no response. Instead, he leaned again to the Gift Keeper and there was yet more of that silent conversation. Then the younger one nodded back towards Genji and they both turned together like clockwork and filed out.

“Hey! What about Hanzo?” Genji shouted.

Of course there was no reply. He stuck his head out the door and there was only cobwebs and dust and an empty hallway.


	8. Chapter 8

To his dismay, the provided clothes were a thin, traditional montsuki-haorihakama in a dusky gray with the Shimada family crest embroidered in white on the lapels. For most occasions, the formal clothing would be dark gray or black, but like everything here, it seemed almost worn out or faded to nothingness.

However, despite the simplicity of the food—it was marvelous. How had he ever gotten by with the stale airline nuts when nuts could taste like this? What had he been thinking when he got a tasteless and pale apple from a corner store or from a market? And the plums—dark like garnets with sweet flesh the color of topaz—who knew that they could be so delightful? Who knew that—dammit, Hanzo was right—that simple green tea could taste so refreshing and complex and be so warming? The rice and beans—common food anyone would get—were the ambrosia of paradise and who knew that even without costly spices or even the customary sprinkle of dark sesame seeds on top that the cooks at Hanamura always put on top?

Genji forced himself to go slowly, to savor it. Truthfully, it felt like the first time he had really tasted food. Everything burst with new and startling flavors on his palette. He finally was down to the last apple before he managed to stop himself. He wanted to save this one, uneven apple—just in case he was back to being rationed again. A little bit put aside never hurt anyone, right?

He had been down to his last cup of hot tea and staring at last ruby red apple when the procession of monks came back in. They surrounded him one more time with screens, allowed him to relieve himself, and filed back out except for one last monk who held a lantern.

Genji stared at the monk expectantly. At least, he vaguely assumed it was a male monk and not a nun—it was hard to tell with identical robes over equally skinny androgynous forms. Their faces were also almost uniformly worn smooth and wrinkled with almost identical ice colored eyes, making it even harder to try to address them. Still, none of their faces seemed to be hostile or condemning.

He set aside the half-empty cup and, because there seemed no movement or sound to indicate what should happen next, he bowed shallowly. The gray figure’s hand raised the lantern and then it turned and began walking away. Genji stared for a bit, but it wasn’t until it stopped and looked back at him that he got the message to follow.

They went through the cobwebbed choked hallways silently. The Shimada son could not even tell that he himself had walked through a few days ago, let alone that a procession with screens and supplies. If it was a only a few days ago. Genji shuffled through, finally lifting the hem of his hakama to avoid gathering balls of webs and dust. His feet seemed to be making footprints as clear as if he was walking on the moon. And when he looked over his shoulder, he only saw one set.

That couldn’t be right—the person ahead of him was surely there and was holding a lantern as they walked.

Slyly, Genji shuffled his foot sideways for a single step. Three steps forward and he saw the sideways mark in the dust and still only one set of footprints. It wasn’t possible for them to be walking in step so much that only one set was created. Genji glanced down, and saw no footprints at all.

He looked up, a question ready on his lips, but the one leading him turned and slid open a traditional paper door. Silently, it lowered the lantern and pointed outside. Genji felt a finger of a chill run down his back.

The landscape outside was shadowy and it appeared to be...twilight? The sky was alight with gold inlaid into lapis and a few stars scattered like freckles. There was a wide path with almost white flagstones leading through a wide area of raked sand and to an almost completely dark area. Small dots of what might be flames—or a coincidental line of fireflies, perhaps—zigzagged back and forth on each side of the path, leading his eyes directly into the dark.

“Am I supposed to...go into there?” Genji asked, examining the path again and wondering why the bend of the path was so dark. “Is that—?”

The other figure was gone.

“I guess that’s a yes,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. Whoever these people were, they were able to sneak in and out in ways that seemed to make ninjas look sloppy. Looking around the door and seeing a small mat with tabi sandals, he added, “At least there’s proper shoes, right?”

A new, child-like voice added, “Yes!”

He looked around, whirling to see who had spoken. It was the same voice that had spoken to him, spoken about hope, but again, there was only a dusty, cobwebbed, empty hallway. “Is there someone there?”

His voice echoed in the emptiness. Sighing, he tried again, “If you’re there—I’m all ears. I’d love to talk to you.” Nothing. “Hey—have you seen my brother? He’s tall and...strong. But I haven’t seen him recently....”

The emptiness didn’t even give him a sigh of wind in response.

There didn’t seem to be anything else to do but to step into the sandals beside the door and begin walking down the path. The air was suddenly hot and sultry, thick as if it was going to rain again despite the almost clear sky, and the humidity made even the soft cloth stick to his body and down his back.

“Damn, it’s hot,” he puffed. “I’m never going to take air-conditioning for granted again.”

The wide flagstones took a sharp turn to the right and at the bend, he found a unevenly folded paper fan folded on a boulder. With a shaking hand, he took it and opened it—there was again a clumsily painted character in a rusty red color with that same shaking brushstroke.

“Hope”, again.

Still, it made him think that he was meant to find it. So he waved it and enjoyed the slight coolness. There had to be someone helping him to leave little treats like this. And who knew that a cheap fan like this would mean so much to him? But it did.

The path went through the dark area—a super shady area with thick pine branches overhead in the golden sky—and then opened into a wide, flat area. Genji crept out almost timidly, worried that this was yet one more strange thing he couldn’t bear to face right now.

It was a wide, flat cliff top. The small ring of pinprick lights were now the only light and as he stared into the sky, he saw the gold fading into purple and indigo. The lights on the path were gone entirely—either burned out or blown out or flown away. Somehow, he was in the middle of a circle of tiny candles now.

Genji shook his head, blinking heavily. He would have sworn he hadn’t crossed over some line of candles. But there they were. When he went to touch the flame, it scalded his fingers. One that he touched with spit moistened fingers went out with a whiff and a thin line of smoke.

He backed up a few steps, relieved that there did seem to be some kind of reality to this place. There was a sudden moon, stars in the thickened air. There was a breath of cooling breeze finally moving. He could vaguely see puffy slate colored clouds in the gathering air. He could taste the water, smell the ions and electricity as what might be a storm was coming through.

“Hey there!” he called out to the nothing. “Hey—thanks for the fan. And the candle.”

It must have been a good thing because there was a distant rumble like thunder. He grinned, fanning himself and running his fingers through his hair. Then arcs appeared from candles on one side to go to the others. It was as if someone had rushed around and drawn chalk lines in bit curves that overlapped just enough to make five pointed petals around the enter. Then a full circle was in the middle. It was just like in that little cell, but even more mysterious because he was standing in the middle as it was happening and could see neither hand nor chalk.

“That’s kind of cool—can you show me how you did it?” Genji called out, bending to touch the line. It smeared slightly and seemed to be only regular chalk like he could have found in any school. His tongue touched his fingertip and it was only chalk he could taste. “Could you show me? I think it’s really cool.”

Nothing.

Genji decided that whoever it was, whatever it was, wanted him in the middle. So, without much else in mind, he went to the middle and knelt. It probably would be artistic or something if he could see it from another angle. Still, it seemed to be the correct thing if the rumble of thunder was anything to go by.

He waited for a while, waiting to see what would happen. But the world was absolutely still. He waited and waited, growing impatient. Except for the candle flames, nothing seemed to exist as the darkness kept falling. The path was completely dark, vanishing even as the candles remained steadfastly burning.

And when Genji did finally get up and went to the where the path had led him to the plateau, it seemed to be gone entirely.

Going back to the middle of the circle, he sighed. As he did, he felt the wind brush his cheeks. Grinning, he sighed heavily again, and another breeze hit his skin. He waved the fan at the candles and again the wind came up, even if the flames didn’t move.

“Hey—are you still out there?” he called, not really expecting an answer.

A rumble of thunder answered him.

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk,” he said as the thunder rumbled in return. “I guess you’ll tell me, huh?”

More thunder rumbled and, for a tiny second, it seemed like there was movement on the horizon. Genji nodded, waving the fan to desperately get wind on his skin. Flicking restless fingers through his hair, he went boldly on, “Have you seen my brother?

“He’s...he’s Hanzo.” Genji nodded at the thunder. “He’s kind of tall and he is very.... He’s very serious. He’s just a little taller than me, but I fluff my hair so that I look taller. It makes him crazy because I’m supposed to be his ‘little’ brother.”

The thunder seemed a bit louder, a bit closer and there was another breath of wind. Genji nodded, and kept going, “I also wear shoes with a thick sole and then I really look taller than him. For a while, he wanted our father to forbid me from wearing anything but tabi or something.

“But you might like him. He’s kind of handsome—I guess—and he’s always been serious and successful. He was first in his class and got good grades and he always knew he’d follow our father and be the next kumicho.”

Genji stared up at the sky, suddenly certain that the storm had moved closer. And somehow equally certain that he was somehow influencing it.

“I...I have always been the bad son, the one that partied and the one that goofed off.” He smirked at the faint spark of lightning in the sky. “I don’t really want to be a part of the Shimada-gumi. I don’t want to be a thug. I don’t want to be the kumicho or the lieutenant.

“I thought that maybe I could be an accountant. I like math and I like actuarial tables and stuff. I like the idea of doing something...normal.” He sighed and the wind was gentle on his cheeks and he thought maybe he could smell some pine in it. “I...I am wondering if I can even do something normal.

“What if I fail? What if I can’t hack it or fail the tests or something? I’m scared.” The young man’s hands shook and the fan fluttered anxiously. “I haven’t ever really been on my own. My dad—he’s Sojiro—never really let us fail. If we got a low grade, he got us tutors. If we got a bad review or report, he’d do anything to bring it up.

“I mean...if I am a normal person, and if I fail, then I’d be broke, right?” He shook his head as the thunder answered him. “That’s what happens to normal people, right? They fail and they can’t get back up. The normal people out there—they don’t have a Sojiro Shimada to come in with money and favors to make it right. So what do they do?

“I guess...that’s why I settled down—eventually,” he sighed. “I was afraid to fail. I can’t face being broke. I don’t know how.” A rumble of thunder answered him again. “I did what he wanted. My father, you know.

“Hanzo doesn’t know what to do with me, though. I think. I’m supposed to be his wakagashira, but he is so...so perfect that he doesn’t need a second in command.” Genji’s hands went into fists. “I mean—he’s always taken care of me. He’s always looked out after me. He will make a place for me, but...it’s.... It’s not real.

“Do you know he took care of me when I busted up my foot? Takeda-sensei kept telling us to go hard and harder and didn’t let us wear pads because I forgot my jacket. I don’t know why it was so important—we were in our estate and we could go without our jackets. It’s our home, you know? He would even tell us to take off our jackets in the summer so that we didn’t overheat.

“Hanzo didn’t leave me the entire time. He was there the whole time I was laid up. He studied when I was out from the pain meds. He took his history final with me in the room. The teacher gave him his questions over the phone and Hanzo had to give oral answers on the spot. I remember because he was telling her about DaVinci and his tanks and airplanes and I was so proud that he remembered what we talked about.

“He did fantastic, though. Of course he did. He always did well. He was always studying or something. Hanzo was like, the perfect son. He would have been Sojiro’s successor no matter what. Even if I had been the first born, I think Hanzo would have been Sojiro’s first choice.”

Thunder answered him, almost overhead. Genji couldn’t see lightning at all, but soft clouds were filling the sky. More seemed to come in the more he talked. “I guess that’s the way it should be, though. Hanzo is the one who is serious, the one who studies and is always double-checking his facts. He has always been the one who most wanted to succeed, who wanted to lead. He’s always wanted to follow Sojiro’s footsteps.

“Even when we were young, he was always studying and always told Sojiro he wanted to follow him. I remember him telling him that when I was in preschool.” Genji’s eyes watered in the heavy air. “Every time that he was asked, he said he was going to follow Sojiro’s path.

“But...I kind of—just don’t.” Genji sighed, sweat clinging to him in the heat. “When I was younger, I wanted to be a hero. I wanted to be someone that people looked up to. And no one looks up to us. I mean—people respect us, people fear us, but no one goes ‘I want to be like Shimada Genji when I grow up’. No one is happy to see us, not really. The best we do is occasionally chase other toughs and deadbeats out the other side of the building.

“Now, all I want is to be a normal guy, you know? An apartment and a wife and kids and maybe even a mortgage. Go through and earn a paycheck and do the normal stuff. Braces and budgets for the kids and allowances and savings account. Heroes only get themselves killed and their friends and family murdered—just like us, you know.

“I don’t understand,” Genji muttered sourly, fanning his sweating face. “I don’t get why Sojiro needs me when he has Hanzo. Why can’t I have a normal life somewhere? Why is it that everyone else can have a wife and kids and a house and a car and we can’t? Why is it that some normal person who lives on his paycheck can do all that and we can’t?

“Do you know that when I wanted to go to Tokyo Joypolis for my birthday when I was 14, it took actually about 6 months of Sojiro’s staff working on it? We had to get a whole bunch of rooms—half of a floor—for the security and then some empty rooms around us. Sojiro didn’t let anyone talk to us, didn’t let us talk to anyone. I had a guy guarding me the whole time. I saw a cute girl dressed as Tails from Sonic and I wanted to get a picture and my guard stopped me because she wouldn’t let him search her. Two more guards appeared out of nowhere and held her until he searched her. He ripped her costume doing it and then he wouldn’t let me give her money for it. He said it was for my safety.

“What am I supposed to do?!” Genji shouted at the storm. “Hanzo is the perfect son. He is, like, a born and bred yakuza. He has no problems with doing whatever he needs to do. He can probably run the whole thing with one hand tied behind his back.” Genji sniffled. “The only reason that that he’d ever need a second-in-command is when he finally decides he’s done and wants to retire. And then it will go to his son, anyway, because that’s what it is supposed to do and because he’d never think of having a girl child, anyway.

A raindrop hit his forehead. “I think I don’t want to be a yakuza. I don’t think I ever did. Why can’t I be something else?”

He felt weary as the first few plops of rain dotted the small rock. “Sojiro said that I needed to dream big. That I needed to think big. But what good is thinking big if all you have to look forward to is already planned out?”

Rain fell a bit around him in sympathetic drizzle. “It is all planned out, you know? The moment I get back from this little joyride, two of my uncles are retiring and Hanzo and I step into their jobs. He’s wakagashira and I’m shateigashira—the second and third lieutenants—and when Father dies or something, we get promoted. Then he’s in charge and I’m...I’m just the second in charge until his son takes over my spot and I have to retire when Hanzo says.

“And that’s it. It doesn’t matter what happens next. That’s as high as I go and the only direction I can go.” Genji pouted, feeling the storm around him go into his blood and out of his words. “It doesn’t matter, really, if I marry or not. If I have sons or not. If I do anything.

“Why even try, then? There’s nothing else, is there? So what’s the use of dreaming? What’s the use of thinking big? It’s not like I can do anything but occasionally cover Hanzo if he’s out of the country or doing something else.”

The storm raged strangely overhead. Lightning began to crack and arc overhead in large curls and flashes. Genji stared at it, feeling strangely like he had brought on the storm. Like it was his anger and frustration flashing overhead in sparks and blinks. He shouted wordlessly and the thunder rumbled in response. Rising to his feet as the rain began to splatter down in earnest, he began shouting.

“What’s the use? What big dreams are there when everything has been planned out for you?” He shook his fist at the roiling clouds as another branch of lightning lit up the whole sky. “Why should I even try?!”

Genji stared at the sky, the rain pouring down over him and wetting him down again. Another arc of lightning flashed between two clouds. As he kept watching it, it seemed like it wasn’t individual spikes and branches, but instead it was a singular snake-like form weaving in and out of the puffy clouds. He stared and the flashes were glowing green as if it was in a snowstorm.

“And now I’m stuck here!” Genji bellowed. “I’m stuck here on a mission to find dragons. And I’m on a freaking rock and I’ve been barely clothed and I’ve been rained on and I’ve been cold and practically starved and I’m...I’m shouting at...at—.”

“At what?” came a small, timid voice.

Genji stopped suddenly, at the thin voice. He had heard it. He knew he had. It was the same voice on the path. The same voice with the candle. He knew he had heard that voice. Spinning around, he looked for something—someone. But he knew he wouldn’t see anything more than dark emptiness.

He looked up at the sky again. The lightning was definitely moving in a deliberate way now, as though he was watching an eel or a fish curl through a current. It flashed and dove into the clouds, then curled around again. Rain was pouring over his head and he could only stare at the storm. Blinking in the wind, he growled and the thunder growled back.

“I...I don’t know,” he whispered. “I want to be myself.” The storm growled overhead. The lightning kept curling overhead in its weird way. “Why can’t I just be me? But...if I am me, what is there to dream about or even hope for?”

There was a sudden rumble and the lightning cracked in a glowing whip from the sky to below his lonely perch. The rain shifted, almost going sideways before whipping in all sorts of directions. The wind shot through and Genji felt the hakama lift up almost to his thighs.

He stared at the storm, wishing for a moment that he knew what was going on. The storm seemed to be settling overhead. The lightning that had crackled overhead was done as suddenly as it had started. Now he was merely wet and talking to nothing—and now he was hearing things in return.

He sighed, plopping down in the circle again. “And this is just great. Now I’m talking to myself.” He sighed and pushed his sopping hair out of his face. If he ever got out of here, he’d make sure never to have kids so that he’d never make them go through this. “It’s not bad enough that I get railroaded into this position. Now I’m going crazy.”

He was about to give it up, to go back down the path and tell the monks to shove their stupid trials up their collective, gray asses, when he heard a soft whimper behind him, “Don’t give up now. Don’t lose hope.”

“Lose hope?” Genji muttered in return. He shuddered in the rain. The storm brought a cold front behind it and he was soaked to the skin. “What is there for me to hope for except an early death?”

“Don’t lose hope.”

He laughed wildly. “Hope is the only thing I have left to lose.”

Genji didn’t dare move at the soft sound behind him. He held his breath as the wind whipped him again, another wave of rain pummeling him. The soft sound shuddered into silence that he could barely hear. Everything in the temple had sharpened his senses, making him go into overdrive. If a fly had landed beside him, he was sure he could hear it now. Even over the rain and storm and wind, he could hear a footstep.

“Don’t lose hope,” came the voice again.

“What is there to even hope for?”

“Hope is for a brighter tomorrow. Hope is for a new chance. Hope is for a new life. Hope for something different—for a change.” There was a pause. “Even when it is dark, you must hope for the light.”

“Why?”

There was a long pause, and another rumble of thunder. Genji thought for a moment he was alone again. Still, he wasn’t sure he dared to move. A long moment later, he finally spoke again. “Why should I hope? You’ve heard it all. There’s nothing for me to hope for except an early death.”

“But things can change,” came the soft whisper. “Life doesn’t stay the same, in the same form. And in change comes hope.”

Genji took a moment to think. Just a moment to reflect that everything came to this. “I...I can’t....” Then he shook his head. “Hope is lost.”

There was a pause and then an indignant reply, “I am not.”

That made him laugh. It sounded like something a flippant co-ed would say. A waitress might say something in that exact tone, protesting playfully in exchange for a larger tip. He glanced over his shoulder to tell the girl to just go already....

There, sitting just behind the edge of the candles, was a glowing green, serpentine dragon that was in a coiled pile about two and a half feet high. The head was almost leonine with two slender and curving antlers rising from a mane that flowed in the air like waving seaweed. It stared up at him like a curious poodle, waiting for some kind of response. When Genji managed to get his numb limbs to work enough for him to stand, the creature craned its slender neck to look at him.

He stared at the creature and saw its body light up with a spark of lightning. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the its jaws snapped and it stared up at him. This had to be what he was meant to see.

“Who are you?” he blurted out.

It shook its head and gave out an impatient sigh. “I am not lost.”

“Kibo?” he whispered. “You...you are ‘Hope’. My hope.”

The dragon gave a little laugh and seemed to dance. Abruptly, it shook and droplets of water went everywhere. The little shiver made rainbows in the dancing water glittered like emeralds. “Can we go? I want to be warm.”

“Okay...err....Kibo,” Genji grinned. “Let’s see if we can go inside.”

“I’m cold!” The dragon sneezed, a mist of lightning crackling around them both. “I don’t like the cold!”

Genji chuckled again. “Well...I’m wet, but I suppose that I’m a bit warmer than you.” He pulled the soaked kimono away from his chest. “Come on.”

Kibo leapt up and was slithering into the kimono within a moment. Genji shuddered, gasping to feel cool, wet scales sliding against his skin as the dragon settled just above the obi of his waist. He patted the trembling dragon and whispered, “Come on, Kibo. If I can figure out which way to go, then—.”

A shaft of moonlight appeared between the retreating clouds as they fled away from him. Of course, the small candles had all blown out or been blown away entirely—if they had ever existed. The moonlight lit up the little cliff with its washed out chalk lines and the suddenly clear pathway back to the temple. He staggered down the little way, feeling suddenly weakened as Kibo curled a bit more snugly around his waist.

He got to the dark place in the curve of the path and stopped. Kibo shifted and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t see the path right now,” Genji grunted. “We might be stuck until morning.”

“Hope is not lost,” Kibo’s voice muttered in his head.

“Yeah, well I am,” Genji replied sourly. “And in the mountains, I’m not sure it’s a good idea not to be on the path.”

The dragon stuck his head out of the gap in his kimono. “Go forward.”

Genji took a few steps forward, inching along to feel the flagstones. “Now what?”

“Go forward.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust in your hope.” Genji slid along a few feet. “Now go left.” He turned slowly. “More. More. Now go forward.”

Suddenly, there was the temple, not more than a foot or two in front of him. The entire place was lit up with candles and lanterns in reds and oranges and golds. It seemed almost like the whole place was on fire with color.

One of monks—a healthy and tanned man with a shaved head and an orange robe so dark it almost seemed red—came forward and bowed. After all the washed out colors and grey-ness, it was singularly shocking to see a normally colored person with dark eyes and brilliant robe. Genji nodded and bowed in return, feeling Kibo shudder again.

“Please come inside, sir, and refresh yourself,” the monk said with a smile.

Genji was startled to be led through the suddenly immaculate temple hallways to a small cell with a real futon and some clothes in a bag waiting for him. There was a huge pitcher of hot water smelling of minerals and softly of pine and a basin next to a small mirror and a razor, as well as a brush and comb. Genji let Kibo out, amused as the dragon slid around, sniffing things and picking them up to stare at them before setting them aside in a messy pile.

There was a solemn knock and a nun—definitely a pretty young nun this time—gave him a pair of towels and a bar of soap. She giggled up at him and pointed towards two closed sliding doors before backing away. Genji looked at Kibo and shrugged and took the things to the doorway.

They must be mind-readers.

There was a huge pine barrel tub filled almost to the brim with hot mineral water next to a wide set of wooden stairs. As a small concession to hygiene, there was a pipe coming out of the wall with a spray of warm mineral water that must have been flowing directly out of a natural spring to flow over a small wooden stool. He let out a whoop and set the bundle down on the step and ran to get his dry clothes. Kibo bounced after him, watching him with a curious, cocked head.

“What are you doing?” Kibo asked as he slid the door closed.

“Getting warm,” Genji groaned as he peeled off the wet clothes and went to sit on the stool with the bar of soap. “And clean.”

“But you were wet already,” Kibo snorted.

“This is a good wet,” Genji sighed. “This is warm, too.”

“Warm...is good,” Kibo nodded. Creeping slowly up with a winding of its body, the dragon slid closer to the spray. Genji cupped his hands and directed a bit of the water over the dragon’s back. Kibo let out a happy sound that defied his explanation or description, and then wriggled again. “A good wet.”

Genji scrubbed himself a few times, almost obliterating the bar of soap, and then crawled into the tub. Kibo’s frolicking amused him as the warm mineral water eased his aching muscles. “Come here, Kibo. You’ll like this.”

Kibo gamely tossed its head and floated over to the tub. Perching gingerly on the side, it stared at the still water. “Why is there a lake in a tree?”

“It’s a tub, Kibo.”

“Why is there a tub?” the dragon asked curiously.

“To relax,” Genji grinned. “To be refreshed and warm.”

The dragon tapped the water, staring at the rippling reflections. Then it noticed Genji’s knee. The little dragon tapped it twice and then its own knee and then Genji’s knee again. “You bend like a dragon.”

Genji laughed, “Thank you, Kibo-san.”

Kibo slid into the water and propped its upper body against Genji’s leg. The dragon’s lithe body wove into the water and the fine fur tendrils on the top of his tail waved in the water like thin seaweed. As he sat there with the water making him feel like a new man, Kibo stared at him with a weaving and bobbing head. Genji reached out gingerly and touched Kibo’s mane.

“You feel like silk threads,” he murmured.

“You feel weird,” Kibo replied. “Where are your scales?” It flopped around, dunking it’s head into the water and nosing around in the warm water. Occasionally a rude bubble hit his skin and tickled as it floated up and a cool, smooth nose would bump him. “What happened to you?”

Genji giggled as Kibo’s nose hit his left flank and he felt a serpentine wriggling between his ass and the wall of the tub. “What are you doing, you crazy thing?”

“What happened to you?” Its head stuck up out of the water as little glowing green humps appeared in the surface of the water. “You must have been hurt terribly. Who did it?!”

“Who did what?”

Kibo dove into the water and wriggled around Genji again. Somehow the high voice was clear in Genji’s ear as if he had spoke next to his head. “Who hurt you so bad?” The head poked up between Genji’s legs and it’s long mane dripped over its head and horns like piles of fine noodles. “You are...all—.” There was an indistinct growl that didn’t seem to have definitive sound even if it rang with meaning. “You poor thing,” it crooned at him, patting his knee with a scaly and clawed paw. “We will have to heal you.”

“I’m doing okay,” Genji sputtered as the long tail brushed his groin. “I’m just sore and ready to be done, you know?”

“But you have no scales!” Kibo muttered in shock. “And someone cut off your tail!”

Genji laughed and splashed the bobbing head. Kibo sneezed and bobbed around, turning on its back like an oversized otter. With a flick of its tail, he gave Genji a returning splash. “You are silly. I don’t know what you think I am—but I don’t have a tail. Never did.”

“How do you get around then?” Kibo bobbed in the water, its long body coiling and curling like the lightning in the clouds. “No wonder you were so lost.”

Genji laughed again, lounging back with his head on the side of the tub. “Silly noodle dragon.”

“I wasn’t lost.”

“No—you weren’t.” He smiled and nodded in agreement. “I’m glad.”

Genji lounged a long time in the tub before rising and climbing out. “Come on silly thing.”

It wasn’t an hour later before Genji felt at least mostly like himself again. He had been greatly refreshed with the long mineral water bath, a leisurely shave and another pot of hot tea. Granted, he was back in another kimono but he was warm and clean now.

Kibo had bounced around the room, staring as he had gotten cleaned up. He had disappeared as Genji combed out his shaggy hair. There was a thump and Genji spun to see the dragon weaving up and down in the air with a piece of orange cloth in his claws.

“There you are,” he smiled. “And what did you do?” The dragon handed him the cloth without replying. “Okay, then.” He wrapped the fabric around his forehead, chuckling as Kibo floated to him and crooned sympathetically about how he must have lost his horns too. With his hair finally tied back, Genji felt at least human if not necessarily fashionable. He smiled as the dragon kept studying him curiously. “So how do I look?”

Kibo snorted and tossed its frizzy mane. “Like someone took your scales and cut off your tail. And your horns too.” There was a pause and the dragon scratched its chin. “Your horns may grow back, though. And now you are wrapped in cloth like a cocoon.”

Genji chuckled again and picked Kibo up. “Well, I suppose we’re both good and warm and that’s what counts, right?”

Kibo nodded, sticking its long nose into Genji’s sleeve. “You are a lot warmer now.”

“So, what else can you do?” Genji asked. Kibo pulled out of his sleeve and tilted his head. “Can you find my brother?”

Kibo stared at him and then nodded. Pushing off his arm, it rose into the air like a fluttering banner and then flowed out and down the hallway. Surprisingly, every wall was whole and kept out the breezes and winds quite well and he could faintly see the green glow through the waxed paper. The roof above him was complete and the old bamboo slats over the stout pine beams were quite secure and showed no blemish. Genji sighed and went to his cell. There was a thick futon on the floor, already made up with clean sheets and pillows. He was surprised with the sudden comfort, but was too pleased to question it.

He had been asleep for a few hours when he felt a cool nudge against his back. Karen liked to nuzzle him before she began grabbing his cock. “Honey-just get some sleep—.”

“Why? What is sleep?”

Genji bolted upright, whirling in the sheets to see Kibo behind him. “Hey...uhhh...Kibo—. Did you find my brother?”

Kibo shook its head. “I did not see my brother anywhere.”

“Not your brother,” Genji yawned. “My brother, Hanzo.”

“I did not see my brother Hanzo anywhere,” Kibo insisted. “What is sleep?”

“It’s what I was doing,” he groaned, laying back down. “And it’s what I’d like to be doing again.”

“Okay,” Kibo nodded. “But do we have to growl like that?”

“Like what?”

“You had your mouth open and sounds were coming out,” Kibo said dryly. “Why do you growl when you sleep?” Genji cocked his head. “It is to protect yourself? To scare predators while you are helpless?”

Genji groaned and rolled over. “Just let me sleep. We’ll find him in the morning.”

In the morning, Genji found Kibo curled up in a circle around one ankle, it’s mouth open and soft snores coming out. Chuckling he said, “And even your tongue is green.”

Kibo shook and woke up, unwinding slowly and going to a wide patch of sunlight on the floor before shivering and shaking out its mane. “What is my tongue?”

Genji stuck his tongue out, laughing as the dragon’s forked tongue flickered out. “Silly.”

There was a shuffling in the hallway and suddenly Kibo shot into the air. With a crackle of static, the dragon flew to him and dug its snout into his sleeve. With another half second of static, Genji saw the dragon vanish and a dark mark appear in his skin.

“Genji,” Hanzo called from the hallway. “Are you ready to go?”

Genji staggered up and watched as the door slid open. Hanzo walked in, carrying their bags. Wordlessly he tossed Genji his and they stared at each other uncertainly. Genji’s eyes flicked over the dark circles under Hanzo’s eyes, his ashen skin and the tremors in his brother’s hands and the unsteady way his older brother wove and shifted from foot to foot.

“You okay, Hanzo?”

Hanzo nodded slowly as if his head was swollen and going to pour water out of his ears if he moved too quickly. Genji scrambled uncertainly to his feet, only to feel a rush of blood that made his eyes darken and his ears throb and his nose close. Moaning softly, he staggered and his knee hit the futon before his head cleared.

Hanzo’s hand was on his shoulder, jostling him as if he was waking him up. “Genji! Wake up.”

“I’m awake. I’m awake.”

“The car is here.” Hanzo opened up Genji’s bag and pulled out his linen shirt and the khaki cargo pants. “Hurry and get dressed.”

“Ugh. Already?”

Hanzo grunted, “Do you need help?”

“Nah,” he snarled as another head rush darkened his vision. “I’m up.”

There was a long pause and finally Hanzo stood up and shuffled to the sliding door. “I’ll wait out here.”

Genji nodded again, immediately regretting the movement as he heard Kibo’s soft mewl in his head. Hanzo snorted, pausing as Genji groaned again. “Sorry—I’m...not myself.”

Hanzo nodded, picking up his bag again before turning towards the door. After another awkward silence, his older brother grunted, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Genji thought for a moment. As he picked up his thoroughly modern shirt and saw the string of glass beads fall out of the pocket. The little silver medallion at the end glistened in the room’s diffused light like a beacon and the little ‘hope’ sparkled.

The long pause made no more sense than the events of the place. Finally, Genji nodded, feeling the heady rush of Kibo’s silent support. “I found what I was looking for.”

Hanzo sighed, the sound filling the room. “Good.”

“Have you?”

There was another thoughtful pause, as if the older brother was considering what move to play next on a chess board filled with possibilities. “I have found something, but I found more questions than answers.”

“Me too.”

Without another word, Genji changed into his own clothes, tucking the mysterious gifts of beads in the pockets. The driver and bodyguard both were standing beside the dark sedan as they stepped out. Without saying anything, the brothers handed over their bags with the mostly untouched supplies and items and the bags were stowed safely in the trunk. The back doors were opened with due ceremony and Hanzo crawled in like a soldier diving in a foxhole. Almost immediately, he settled back and tilted his head and closed his eyes.

Genji stared at them all, feeling like this was a play or broadcast showing a peculiarly untouched island society that was alien to him. He touched the strings of beads in his pocket and turned back to look at the temple. Whether he wanted to express his happiness or gratitude or curse the place out and setting it on fire in some unintelligible grief, he couldn’t say.

The temple was another plain building out of wood and bamboo with a generic porch and traditional sliding doors. He couldn’t believe it—the temple had been huge, hadn’t it? He remembered several rooms and this surely didn’t have more than five rooms—if that. It was a hut....

“Are you coming, Genji?” Hanzo called wearily from the car.

He patted his pockets restlessly. “Hold on—I forgot something.”

Running up to the door, he knocked loudly. There was no answer—even when he knocked again and even when he shouted. Irritated, he pulled open the door and stuck his head inside. “Anyone home?”

Inside the temple, he saw utter devastation. Not only were the walls ripped, but they were moldy from the rain. There were vines of mossy green dripping from huge holes in the ceiling. The interior doors were askew and all but falling off their tracks. Dust choked the hallways and dirt collected in corners. The tatami was grey and even looked like it was soft with mildew. A shiny green lizard stared at him from a place where the wall had collapsed and showed him a dilapidated well and a barrel tub that had split with age and warped with water. The temple had at one point had maybe had three rooms—a place for the monk to sleep and a utility room to cook and possibly clean and a room for meeting guests.

Strangely, there was not even a single footprint on the thick dust on the floor.

He stared around the building, feeling the floor shiver weakly. There was no way he had been here for days. Certainly not without hearing and seeing his brother. It would have been impossible to miss seeing people coming to and fro—not to mention feeling the footsteps.

“There is nothing here for you now,” Kibo whispered in his head.

“But where are they? The...the monks and nuns and all the people? Where are they?”

“There is nothing here for you now,” it repeated. “We are done here and can go.”

Genji sighed, pulling back, “I guess.”

Without another word, he went to the car and climbed in. Hanzo stirred on the seat beside him, grunting sleepily, and rolled away to prop his shoulder against the car door. The car rattled slightly as the other two men climbed in and the it shivered as they pulled away from the temple.

“Han—do you remember what happened?” Genji asked suddenly.

Hanzo groaned and settled into another low slouch. “Yes—I remember.”

“What do you remember?”

Hanzo groaned sleepily. His normally neat hair floated in a frizzy and tangled mass around his shoulders. “I thought I knew what was happening. I remember seeing...things. Doing things, but I must have been mistaken.” He yawned. “It cannot have happened, though, so I must have been dreaming.”

“You?! Dreaming?” Genji laughed coldly. “I must be hearing things.”

“Get some sleep, Genji,” Hanzo muttered. “Everyone will be wanting to celebrate—.”

“Did you get to see a dragon?”

Hanzo cracked a bloodshot eye at him. “I would suppose that you went through something similar to what I did.” One look at his brother’s mutinous face and he sighed. “I spent the first day demanding to see you. The monks would only bring me a reeking bowl and a cup of soup once a day and then lock the door behind them.

“I kept trying to open the door and demand answers, but there was no reply. Then one day there was something strange, something different.”

“A candle?”

“No...another door.”

“A door?”

Hanzo nodded wearily. “I would have seen another door. I know I would have. I thought I could escape and I ran to it. But when I opened it, there was an empty room with pair of men standing there. They said to take two gifts and so I did.”

“Strings of beads?”

Hanzo nodded slowly. “It was strange, though. I reached for a set of gold beads with a koban on the end and it pulled away like I was diseased. Instead, two strings wrapped around each other in white beads shot out and wrapped around my wrist. I tried again and a third string wrapped around the first ones as if I had braided them.” Hanzo pulled up his long sleeve and Genji stared at the braided strands wrapped around his wrist. “I was going to shout at them, but they were gone and there was another door in front of me.

“I kept going and there was a misty path going up to a flat rock. I knelt down and waited and waited, but nothing happened. I finally shouted that I was not going to do another thing until I saw you. It was totally dark and cold and I wanted to make sure you were okay in all this.” He shrugged. “I suppose you know the rest.”

“You saw your dragon.” Hanzo nodded slowly at Genji’s question. “But what about the storms and stuff?”

“Storms? There were no storms the entire time.” Genji gaped in surprise at his answer. “But I saw and I did everything I needed to. I offered them the strings, but they only flew away and led me back to my cell. The next morning I found our bags and came to find you.”

Genji sighed, his head suddenly tired and aching and stuffed with cotton. “You and I were at the same place right?”

Hanzo shrugged. “If it weren’t obvious, I would say we were drugged and dreamed it all.”

Genji chuckled, settling back against the seat. “Are you sure we weren’t?”

Hanzo only shrugged. “Get some sleep, ototou.”

In a low voice, Genji whispered, “I found my hope.”

“Hope?” Hanzo snapped with a grimace. “I was certain you would have dreams.”

“And what were your gifts?” Genji touched his pocket, suddenly sure without looking there were two strings of beads there, despite not seeing the second string for a while. “My gifts were ‘hope’ and ‘forgiveness’.”

“My gifts were ‘Kenryoku’ and ‘Shokan’—power and redemption.” He shrugged. “Two....”

“Holy cow,” Genji swallowed nervously. “Those sound like powerful gifts.” Hanzo only settled back with his eyes closed. “Hey...you said three.”

Hanzo’s eyes popped open to stare at the ceiling of the car. “The last was ‘dishonor’.”

Genji had nothing to say—nothing he could say to that. He was afraid to ask which gift was the one to give away. Then again, it almost sounded like they had been in entirely different worlds. He couldn’t begin to think what else might have been different. Unsettled, he was relieved to hear a friendly chitter in his head that seemed to be Kibo’s best effort to give him support and finally he tucked himself into the corner of his seat and the heavy door.

They napped as the car drove them home. The entire estate was turned out to meet them as they climbed wearily out. Every servant bowed low and Sojiro himself was at the door. Nothing was said. The kumicho only waved and groups of servants broke out of the line to get their bags, to escort them to their rooms, to run them baths and lay out fresh clothes, to summon masseurs and bring them discrete thimble sized cups of sake.

Genji almost slept as he finally laid down on his own bed. He had timed it—the huge masseur spent over two hours on him alone. He had finally gotten a pair of his own pants on, along with his hair slicked up the way he liked it. Then he had spent a while in the shower before sitting in the steam room. He felt like he was being roasted in an oven until his muscles were soft and his bones pliant.

It seemed almost like a dream, but there was a long dark mark coiling over his arm and in the corner of his mind he could hear Kibo’s endless questions. Why was he in the tub again? Who were these people? Why did the maid who brought him his sake giggle and flush whenever she saw him? Why did the big man oil his skin like that? Why did Genji groan like when he pinched and kneaded his muscles? Was this the one who took his scales and tail? And what was the thing between his legs that made him laugh queerly when the little dragon’s furry tail tip brushed it?

Without a word, a maid came in discretely and refilled his drink. Slowly, she pulled out a heavily padded dog bed and set it beside Genji as he laid there. She smiled at him again and giggled and her face turned red. Still, he had no intention of moving so he waved her away and rolled slightly.

“You can come out now, Kibo,” he murmured. “They brought you a bed.”

Kibo pushed off his arm with a crackle of static and wove above Genji on the bed. “What is a bed?”

Genji patted the cat bed and smiled. “You can lay here. It’s a good warm.”

“Why are you so small?” Kibo asked as it nosed the velvet covered foam. “It is hard to go around your arm.”

“Is it?” Genji asked, taking his drink of sake. He gave a glance at his arm and supposed that, yes, his arm was somewhat more wiry than bulky.

“Like wrapping around a...a stick.” Kibo’s tail wrapped into a circle on the bed as he sank down into a loop. “But you are different sizes all over.”

“What about my back?”

Kibo sighed as it sank into the plush bedding. “I cannot help you there.”

“What do you mean?” Genji slurred.

“Go to sleep,” Kibo sighed.

“You sound like my brother.”

“My brother is very wise.”


	9. Chapter 9

To his surprise, Genji slept for simply hours and awoke early the next morning. Reaching around blindly, he thought for a moment that he had dreamed it all in some kind of strange after effect of eating too much the night before. He was well dressed and rested and in the room he had been in his whole life. He was warm and comfortable, even if he was hungry.

Hungry.

Breakfast sounded good. Great even. Genji stared at his room for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not he was actually hungry enough to get up and wake the household or if he could lay back and sleep some more. Or shower. After that kind of lingering and long dream, he felt like he could use a shower.

He finally sat up and rubbed his eyes. He was fairly certain that he was hungry and after a shower he might be ready to face the day. His for his something soft, plush and furry and he wondered if he had worn his rabbit slippers to bed again.

No. It was an upside down pet bed.

He stared at it stupidly for a moment. It wiggled slightly, one corner jerking up and a glittering green eye blinked at him. The bed then lowered with a shiver and he heard a soft grunt.

It hadn’t been a dream, had it?

Kibo’s claws stuck out and slowly pushed the bed up until he could just see the tip of its nose. A long green tongue flicked out and tasted the air before the long body uncoiled and slid out like a magician’s trick with a scarf.

“Hello, Kibo,” Genji chuckled with a yawn.

It twisted in a strange corkscrew in the air and he heard a series of soft pops like when his uncle cracked his knuckles. But it was such a long series that it seemed more like the sound of gravel being tossed down steps than individual sounds. After unwinding again, the dragon yawned and twisted again and then set down on the bed.

“You were growling again,” Kibo accused.

“I’m sorry,” Genji laughed. “How about some breakfast and we’ll talk about it?”

Kibo nodded and with a new languid stretch, flew up to land on his arm. Delicately curved claws dug in just enough that he could see their pale white lines, but the tail wrapped around his arm in a firmly stabilizing grip.

They managed to get shaved and and a brief shower and cleaned up without incident. Most of the household was still asleep at this hour, and with his light steps, he slid into the kitchen without meeting anyone. Kibo kept his place on Genji’s arm, drifting like a balloon tied to his wrist.

“So, what will it be, huh?” Genji asked softly as he opened the fridge. For reasons he couldn’t quite think of right now, this cook tended to keep a thermos of black tea in the fridge next to a box of expensive coffee. “We can get some snacks and some tea or I suppose I could get you some rice or something?”

Kibo released him and floated up to peer into the fridge over his shoulder. “This is not good.” Its shiver went down Genji’s back with a sliding of scales. “It is bad magic to be so cold.”

“It’s not magic, Kibo. It’s a fridge. And it’s not bad—it’s to keep food fresh.”

Genji dug into the fridge and moved a carton of eggs out to the counter. There was likely something tasty and quick to eat in the little carton in the back. As soon as he dug out the small box of chopped fruits and a plate of leftover rice balls, he heard a choking sound behind him. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Kibo with an egg in one paw and his head up with another egg in his teeth. With a strange sound that defied description, he saw the little dragon’s jaw flex wider and wider until it swallowed the egg entirely. The lump of the egg slid down the soft skin under its jaw and down its throat to become a gentle swelling in the middle of its body.

“Uhhh...what are you doing?”

Kibo glanced at him curiously. “Eating.”

“I can crack that for you—if you like.”

“Why?”

“Here—let me.”

Genji fumbled to put the rice balls and fruit down. Taking an egg, he cracked it into a bowl. “Do you want me to fry it or anything?”

“Why?” 

“Silly dragon.” He puffed out an anxious breath. He had always had someone to cook for him and eggs were about the only thing he could do by himself without a recipe and without burning the place down. “Let me show you.”

And that was how Hanzo found him—fumbling with a skillet and eggs. A plate held fried eggs and another plate held scrambled eggs and the last one had two eggs that were boiled and still steaming. Genji grinned at the little green dragon as it poked at the fried egg with an unmistakable look of repulsed curiosity.

“Good morning,” Hanzo grunted.

“Come in,” Genji chirped as he divided up the fruit. “We were just getting an early breakfast.”

His older brother nodded blearily and then gave another nod towards the green dragon. Kibo looked up at him with a strange expression and then poked the fried egg again. The soft yolk split in a brilliant yellow mess and spilled out over then irregular white. The dragon scrambled backwards and almost fell off the table as its mouth curled into a repulsed growl.

“Where are your dragons?” Genji asked.

Hanzo sighed as Genji pushed a cup of cold green tea towards him. “It is too early to have cold tea. Is there any hot tea?” Genji shook his head and dumped the skillet and spatula in the sink. “Is that hot water at least?”

Genji snorted as Kibo’s long tongue wrapped itself into a coil in the soft yellow yolk. “It is if you don’t mind that I boiled eggs in it.”

Hanzo grunted and nodded. “It will do.”

Genji poured out some of the cloudy hot water and added the teabag. “Here you go.”

Hanzo nodded, “Thank you.” He drank the cup dry and nodded again. “And Shokan and Kenryoku are...uncooperative at best. They have spent a great deal of time arguing so far.”

“‘Power’ and ‘Redemption’, huh? Those are powerful words.” Hanzo scowled. “Names—powerful names.”

“They are in conflict a great deal,” he grunted. “But they are finally quieting. And now that I am awake, they are hungry.”

Kibo stared at the brothers thoughtfully. “Eggs,” it finally whispered to Genji.

Genji shrugged and nodded. With a sour grunt and a hiss, Hanzo’s blue dragons coiled off his arm and landed side by side on the counter. Genji gave Hanzo two cool, uncooked eggs from the carton and the blue dragons swallowed them with that same strange jaw-stretching motion like snakes.

The three dragons stared at each other for an electric moment, as if sizing each other up. Kibo pushed the hard boiled eggs towards them and then pulled back to go back to Genji’s arm. In his head, he heard the little dragon’s voice, “I...I don’t know about them.”

“It’s all right,” Genji murmured, petting the dragon with long strokes from the head to the tail. “It will take a bit, but we will be okay,”

Kibo shook his head and whipped in the air. Landing on his arm again, Kibo vanished and sank into his skin with a burn of electricity. Genji stared at the red mark on his wrist that was almost as dark as a bracelet made of bruises.

Hanzo shrugged and snapped and the two blue dragons swirled upwards in a coil of lightning before going to wrap around his left arm from his shoulder to his wrist. “It is good to see you brother.”

“You, too. It was very unnerving to go through all that without you,” Genji flushed and muttered. “I was worried that I wasn’t ever going to get back home.” Hanzo said nothing in return. “But, hey—we survived, right?”

“Yes—I suppose.” He shrugged again, glancing towards his darkened skin. “We survived.” Glancing at his brother, he paused thoughtfully. “Are you sure you are well? Uninjured?”

Genji grinned, “I’m fine.”

Hanzo seemed about to say something else but instead lapsed into a meaningful silence. Genji frowned at the quiet. Hanzo could say nothing and still fill a space with meaning. It was hard to remember when it started, but Hanzo had always been there to watch over him. Then when he had broken his foot sparring, Hanzo hadn’t left his bedside. In a way, being at that temple had been the first time in years he had been on his own without his older brother there to help him.

The servants bustled in just as Genji was about to speak and Hanzo vanished in the whirl of bodies. Genji sighed and went back to his room. No one said anything as Genji and Sojiro ate breakfast, nor as the three Shimada men went about the day. The younger son went to Hanzo’s office and worked balancing the books and looking at the profits for the territories. Kibo kept chattering in his head, asking questions, too, and managing to give him a headache.

“What is that stick?”

“How does it make those marks?”

“What does that mark mean?”

“What is that big thing you are unfolding?”

“What is that you are holding?”

“What is a beer?”

“Why do you need a break?”

“What do you mean I am talking too much?”

Genji growled, “Just be quiet, Kibo.”

Hanzo looked at him over the rim of the cup of water he was holding. “Are you have problems, Genji?”

Genji rolled his eyes. “Kibo.”

Hanzo nodded slowly. “I told Shokan and Kenryoku to be quiet whenever I was working.”

He scowled at his older brother’s elementary answer. “Does that work?”

Hanzo affected a pretend chuckle and said, “No. They are still arguing like children.” He set down the cup and the desk. “But I believe that they will be more quiet when they settle in.”

Genji stared at his brother. Of course Hanzo was handling this better than he was. Hanzo could do anything and apparently that included handling a manic pair of dragons lurking in his head. While they studied profit and loss statements and determined the schedule of payments to bribe police and to get protection money. And he didn’t break a sweat.

It just figured, didn’t it?

Kibo did settle down as they broke up and parted to get ready for dinner. Genji sighed in relief as the dragon leapt off of him and crawled back under the pet bed. A glowing green eye stared at him as if it was going to leap out any minute. He got washed up and put on fresh clothes. His mind ached but he did feel better afterwards and felt reasonably ready to face his family.

His father was smiling and appeared to be talking lightly with Hanzo when Genji got there. “...and I was thinking of setting the celebration in a week.”

“That is the second of the month,” Hanzo replied quietly with a solemn expression that suggested he was not at all enthusiastic about it. “We will need to collect the protection money early then, sir.”

Sojiro saw Genji at that moment and smiled. “My son! Come in.” He pointed happily at the place setting beside him. “We were just talking about your celebration next week.”

“Oh?” Genji smirked as Kibo asked what a celebration was.

Sojiro must have seen something in his face because he nodded. “I understand that your dragon is a bit of a headache right now.” The silent procession of servants came in with platters of food and pots of hot tea. He held a finger up to his lips for silence until they left. “It is always a good thing when a father’s son succeeds and can grow into a man. As a man with position, you will have your own office near mine, as well, my son.”

Genji’s ears pricked a bit, sure he heard “son” instead of “sons”. Hanzo didn’t seem to be upset or to have even noticed it, though, and with Kibo’s running commentary he couldn’t be sure what he heard. Perhaps it was nothing because Hanzo only nodded, staring at his plate thoughtfully. 

Sojiro snapped at a pale-faced maid as she came in with a second pot of tea and ordered, “Bring us sake.” She nodded and disappeared. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am that we will be celebrating. And for the next week, you will receive your first tattoos from the Shimada horishi who did my tattoos.”

Hanzo only bowed silently and Genji smirked, “Thank you.”

Sojiro nodded as the maid returned with the tray. He plucked up the tiny white cups and settled them down in a triangle in front of himself. Taking the ceramic carafe, he poured them each some potent sake, leaving his own empty. Genji grinned at the milky liquid—an unfiltered and potent nigori sake with a delicate fragrance he could detect from his place at the table. He set the two cups in front of his sons and then the maid poured his in a mannerly way because only barbarian gaijin poured their own drinks. After he shooed her away, he turned back towards his family. “You will need to decide how you and your dragons will coexist. You have undoubtedly seen that wherever they meld with you it bruises your skin.” Both young men nodded. “So, the tattoos are with special, opaque ink and generally in dark colors to hide that discoloration.

“It is vital to protect your dragons and that includes shielding evidence of their presence from curious eyes. Your skin will be lighter when they are out and darker when they are melded with you. This can give their positions away, and will only tempt the curious. So, we use tattoos to cover their resting places and keep them secret.”

Genji grinned. “So we are getting tattoos for the next week?”

“Indeed,” Sojiro grinned. “But I would expect that you will only need the first few days since they can be quite small depending on how you and your dragon work together. The rest of the week you may spend resting and healing.” He laughed softly. “And do not underestimate how much you will itch and need to take care of your new tattoo. As I recall, I had to spend about two weeks moisturizing and putting ointment on it twice every day and even then I had days it felt like I was dried out like a prune.”

Genji tried to laugh, but it was hard to when his brother didn’t seem to even smile. Instead, his brother nodded and looked down at his place setting again. There was an awkward pause before Sojiro nodded and let the meal begin. Even then Hanzo took only some rice and vegetables and said very little.

“And you, Genji—,” Sojiro laughed. “—is there anything else you would like at your celebration?”

Genji flushed and swallowed his bite of pickled vegetables. “Uhh....”

Sojiro sipped his sake with a reptilian smile. “I have already arranged for fireworks and food carts with taiyaki, mizo yokan, cookies and so on. There will be tumblers and dancers so that our brothers in arms may bring their families, as well. I want all of Japan to know how pleased I am. I even managed to get a cart of kites and a group of ponies for the children.” He smiled and took another sip. “I tried to think of everything you might want to mark the occasion.”

Genji nodded slowly. “That sounds great, I guess.” He glanced nervously at his older brother. “What do you think, Hanzo?”

Hanzo set his empty chopsticks down with a graceful and precise move. He stared at his plate and then nodded stiffly. “Yes, sir.”

Genji blinked at him. “Hey, Hanzo—what about the fortune tellers like we saw at Edo Wonderland? Remember how we wanted to have our fortunes told?”

Sojiro laughed and took another portion of steamed edamame. “Anything you want, son.”

Hanzo still said nothing. He paused to take a sip of tea, sniffed the fragrant steam and then he frowned and set it aside without drinking. “Whatever you wish, sir.”

“We will add in fortune tellers, then,” Sojiro nodded. “It could be fun to see what is in our futures.” The old man hunched forward as if he was whispering secrets. “And I realize that this is...tame entertainment, but don’t worry—I have big plans for afterwards. I have arranged for something more exciting after everyone’s families leave after the first round of fireworks. A few women, a little more music and some of our private stock—and who knows what can happen?”

Sojiro laughed heartily and Genji chuckled while Hanzo laughed not at all. In fact, Hanzo did not eat another bite as they finished dinner. Genji watched him as Kibo suddenly went silent. “Are you okay, Hanzo?”

“Fine,” Hanzo muttered. “There is simply...a lot on my mind, is all.” He nodded solemnly. “Please excuse me, sir, I have work to do.”

Sojiro nodded and waved him away as if he was waving away a servant. Then he turned to Genji and asked, “So, tell me about your dragon.”

“Ahhh...,” Genji hummed. “I mean, I only have the one dragon, Kibo. Hanzo has two.”

That made his elder brother pause just as he was about to rise to his feet. Sojiro turned icy eyes towards his older son. “Really?”

Genji nodded stupidly, turning red as his brother was forced to settle at his place again under that withering gaze. Gushing nervously, he added, “With powerful names, Father—Shokan and Kenryoku.”

“I see,” his father nodded stiffly.

“Has there ever been a Shimada with two dragons, Father?” Sojiro sniffed and shook his head as if he was made of brittle kindling. “It sees to me we all have things to be grateful for.”

“Indeed.” Suddenly smiling again, he turned to his younger son. “But we already have power already. To have hope? To see the brighter future? That is a rare and special gift. And it reminds me how fortunate I am.

“And at the celebration, I will announce you both are joining the clan as the wakagashira and the shateigashira. My brothers, your uncles, will be stepping aside and giving you their roles.”

“What will happen to them?” Genji asked softly.

Sojiro nodded absently, his eyebrows raised. “You are worried about them?”

“We...would not want them to—uhhh.” Genji looked at Hanzo, his cheeks growing pink as he tried to figure out what to say next as his father watched him with keen interest. “That is....”

Hanzo kept staring at his plate, his voice as dispassionate as his solemn face. “They lead a large number of men and those relationships are strong. It would not be...honorable to displace them without due consideration for their years of service. And such dishonor might fan a rebellion if they are not treated well in their... retirement, sir.”

Sojiro snarled, “And you have something to say?!”

“Sir,” Hanzo sighed, bowing low. “With all due respect, my honored brother is very...wise to consider that we wish them to be able to step aside with as little ill will as possible.”

Sojiro snorted derisively and waved aside his words, “They have generous IRAs and a portion of our income has been diverted to generate a pension fund so that they can retire and enjoy time with their families.”

“Of course you are honorable and wise, sir,” Hanzo replied in that same low and even, emotionless tone.

Genji took one look at his father’s enraged face and hastily added, “Of course no one thought that you would abandon your family, Father. We just... were not aware of how extensive your preparations were.” Sojiro sat back, looking thoughtful before nodding with a smile at his younger son. “And I hope that our esteemed uncles will advise us on our new positions in the clan.”

Sojiro laughed again. “Of course, son. Of course.” He waved at his older son, dismissing him carelessly. “You need to attend to business.”

“Of course, sir.” Hanzo nodded and bowed, rising to his feet. “Good evening, sir. Brother.”

Genji sighed and drank his sake as Hanzo left quietly. “Father—is...everything all right?”

Sojiro’s smile turned to a frown and he glared at his older son’s abandoned and full sake cup. “Of course, son. Everything is just perfect.”


	10. Chapter 10

At lunch the next day, Sojiro made such a fuss about them getting a good meal that both of his sons were compelled to eat from their bento boxes as he gushed on and on. Genji grinned at the fancifully prepared food—intricate garnishes and tasty tidbits in a tempting and artistic way. Hanzo seemed uninterested in the talk about the party and the tattoos, silently eating the few bites he did in his graceful and meditative way and sipping tea.

“Hey, anija,” Genji asked. “What do you think about having those nice carp kites like we used to see at the park?”

Hanzo sighed and stared morosely at the onigiri—rice balls with sour plums in the middle. “If you wish.”

Sojiro cackled. “You used to love those kites, Genji.” He laughed again and nodded. “I will make sure you have one of your own.”

Genji grinned and nodded. “Could we have taiko drummers, too? They are always exciting, don’t you think, Hanzo?”

Hanzo only nodded, “If you wish.”

Genji grimaced and quickly turned into a machine gun of questions, to which Hanzo replied with scarcely a word or two—when he replied at all. What about those glowing necklaces like at the fairs for the kids to snap and shake and wear? What did he think about a cart with roasted corn? Or a cart with chocolate taikiyaki—didn’t he like the silly fish shaped pastries? Maybe little hand drums? And didn’t he think that someone selling paper fans would be a good touch since the weather had turned so warm? Not to mention that it would be such fun to invite that sweet girl Mariko who had such a godawful crush on Hanzo.

Hanzo blanched, turning ghastly pale, and only whispered, “If you wish.”

“Aww, you’re no fun,” Genji pouted playfully.

Hanzo set down his chopsticks. Nodding to his brother and bowing low to his father, he muttered, “If you wish, Genji-san. I ask to be excused so that I can prepare for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, go on then sourpuss,” Genji sighed as he gobbled up some food.

Sojiro waited a beat in stone faced silence. Finally, he nodded. Hanzo stood up slowly and turned to leave when he called out pithily, “I will leave the account books for you on your desk so that you will not fall behind.”

Hanzo paused and sighed heavily. Genji stared at him as his shoulders sagged as though he had just lifted a load of stones. “Of course, sir.”

Genji pouted, “But what about the party?”

Sojiro snorted, “Let him go, son. We will plan the best celebration together.”

“Oh. O-o-okay,” Genji whispered as his brother disappeared. “We’ll do that.”

Genji and Hanzo both appeared at the small building that the horishi had to do their tattoos. The old bald men in their plain kimono seemed to be expecting them and had two couches set up with pillows. Two trays were set up with tiny, unmarked pots and bowls and the traditional wooden rods with needles attached by silk threads. The old man and his assistant bowed low and showed the brothers to the two lounging couches. He brought out a long scroll of paper and a pencil.

“So, honored sirs, how may we help you?”

Hanzo nodded and got comfortable. “We both have joined with dragons and they live in us now.” The horishi smiled and nodded expectantly. “We were told to seek you and to have tattoos to hide them and protect them from the world.”

“Of course, sir. If you would please expose the places I have to work with, I will design your tattoos.”

Hanzo slid off his shirt and laid on the couch. Pointing to the purpling coiling up and down his arm, he said, “This is where my tattoo should be.”

The horishi nodded, drawing a vague arm shape—if the arm was skinned and laid flat—and filled in a brief outline of coiling dragons surrounded by storm clouds. Hanzo shrugged and nodded, glancing away to an empty wall.

Genji smiled at the assistant and took off his shirt as well. Kibo had curled on his back, over his spine.

“But why there, Kibo?” he had asked late last night.

“Kibo is not...for fighting,” it replied with a flick of its tongue. “Kibo is for healing.”

“Healing?” Genji snapped. “That is.... Well, what am I to do with that?” Kibo cocked its head. “I thought that, you know, dragons were for...power and fighting and attack and stuff.”

“Why would you think something so silly?” Kibo snorted.

“But...aren’t dragons like, all about power and strength and stuff?”

Kibo snorted angrily. “Are you all humans the same? Are you the same as my brother?”

“His name is ‘Hanzo’, Kibo. And...well...no, I’m not like him.” Genji scratched his head. “I guess...I just assumed—. Okay—so healing, right? Does that mean that you can’t attack?”

Kibo shook its head. “I...I—.” It seemed to be embarrassed as it squirmed on the edge of the bed. “I am just...not as good at it as other dragons.”

“Okay,” Genji nodded. He stroked the slick scales. “It’s okay. I just...didn’t know.” He gave Kibo another stroke. “I’d guess you aren’t good on defense, either, huh? So let’s put you on my back and I’ll be your shield.”

Genji laid on his belly with Kibo’s mark on his back. The mark was discreet and could be covered easily with a shirt. Even kimono would not show his tattoo—even with the sleeves pulled up. A short-sleeved golf shirt wouldn’t show Kibo’s hiding spot, either. He glanced at the long lines on Hanzo’s arm and shook his head slightly, knowing Hanzo would be in suits and long sleeved kimono the rest of his days if he wanted to hide his tattoo. “Here you go.”

The horishi pulled out another scroll and drew a torso. “I believe that you will like this one, sir.”

Genji nodded thoughtfully as the other man drew out a stylish and detailed dragon. “Could you make it in green?”

“Of course, sir.”

The horishi and his assistant pulled out vials of colors and their traditional tools. Slowly, they began tapping and drawing the outlines. As they worked on his back, Genji kept up his silent conversation with Kibo, talking to him about flying on jets and Omnics and going out to gamble.

He had begun mentally explaining craps and making odds when he looked at his brother. Hanzo was still staring listlessly at the wall, unmoving and not paying attention at the horishi as his needle kept digging into his skin. He seemed to be sweating and his skin was somehow grey and sallow.

“Hey, Hanzo! You all right?” Genji called. Hanzo didn’t move, only panted heavily and twitched slightly at the sound of his name. Both the artists paused, pulling away as Genji rolled to look. “Why don’t we have them get us something to drink?”

Hanzo said nothing as the assistant went and fetched them drinks—cups of tea and icy bottles of water. Genji watched his brother carefully as he took the cup in hand and looked at it. He didn’t realize how badly out of character his brother was until he saw the cup wobble in his fingers and almost fall.

“Hey...hey—get help. Something has happened to Hanzo!” Genji shouted, pushing up off the mattress.

The assistant and the horishi stared as if he had gone mad as he got up. “B-b-b-but...”

Genji groaned and pointed blindly as the cup fell from Hanzo’s hand and shattered. “You! Go get someone—call a doctor.”

Hanzo panted and sweated as the assistant went to get the doctor. Genji grabbed a water bottle and pressed it into his brother’s hands nervously, wiping the sweat from his body.

“Get it over with,” Hanzo whispered.

“Get something to drink,” Genji whispered. “This is safe. See? It’s a new bottle.” He unscrewed the top and took a drink, keeping his brother’s hands wrapped around the bottle every moment. “It’s safe to drink.”

Hanzo pushed the bottle weakly. “Just get it over with.”

The next hours were a confusion of people rushing around. The horishi and the assistant were pushed aside to a corner as bodyguards and doctors came in. Hanzo just laid there limply as they examined him, staring with feverish intensity at the wall. Genji paced as they gave him liquids, took blood samples and called experts. An Omnic assistant came in and Genji shivered as it began taking instruments out of its titanium chest. They efficiently swabbed his mouth, questioning Genji and the horishi and the assistant. They even questioned the little maid who came in with bottles of tea and water and snacks.

The doctor took the swab and pushed it into a computer and hit a number of keys. A few minutes later, the computer let out a chime and the doctor nodded at the results. With a nod, they pulled out a medkit and snapped the seals. Genji craned his neck and barely saw them pull out a bottle and fill a needle.

“Hey—what’s that?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Shimada. This is a standard treatment for this type of poison. This will stop the reaction and then administration of nanites will take care of the rest.”

Genji nodded uncertainly as they pressed the needle into his skin and began the computer generated injection. A few moments later, his brother groaned and his eyes fixated on Genji’s face. Genji gave him an uncertain smile, relieved as he got a shaky nod in return. Fifteen minutes later, Hanzo was looking more alert and the doctors gave him the nanotechnology injection. Genji was called to one side as his brother moaned and closed his eyes to sign papers and authorize billing for the housecall. It wasn’t until two hours later—when Genji saw the medical personnel leave with their usual admonitions to visit a doctor and the wake of papers and forms—that he realized that of all the people who had come and gone, Sojiro hadn’t even made an appearance.


	11. Chapter 11

Instead, two men were executed as those responsible for attempting to poison Sojiro. The official story—which would never make even the back page of the meanest gossip rags—was that the poison was meant for the kumicho and the cups at lunch had gotten mixed up. Two stooges were executed and Sojiro didn’t even let it merit a question at breakfast the next day.

After breakfast, though, as Genji was gathering some magazines and his tiny phone and earbuds, Sojiro did appear at his elbow. “Son...are you...all right?”

Genji nodded with a confused look on his face. “Of course I’m fine.”

“Good. Good.” He nodded. “I had been worried. Do you want a taster?”

“A what?!”

“A taster.” Sojiro nodded slowly and clapped him on the shoulder. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

Genji stared stupidly at the earbuds in his hand before giving his confused gaze to his father. “But...Hanzo was the one who was poisoned.”

“We can hire someone to taste your food for you.” Sojiro shrugged. “It would not be hard to find someone desperate enough for the money.”

“I’m fine,” Genji whispered. “Hanzo was the one who was hurt.”

Sojiro made an uncharacteristic rude noise. “He is fine.” He began following Genji to the horishi’s studio. “But I want you to think about it.” He became solemn and seemed to hunch over with age and heavy cares. “I nearly lost you once—.”

“And you nearly lost your other son, too,” Genji snapped.

“Hanzo is fine,” he barked. “But you...you are the future. The dreams and aspirations of the future of the clan are on your shoulders. Most anyone could keep the territory intact, govern and lead the elders, but.... No one can replace you.”

“I...have to go.”

Genji all but ran down the path to the little building. Perhaps not unexpectedly, he was the first there and had his pick of couches and cushions. Setting up a luxurious little pile, he peeled off his shirt and waited.

The assistant came in with the horishi next, yawning and sipping tea from their bottles and with bento boxes for their lunches. Genji nodded absently as he kept reading about the latest video game championship rounds. Trust his luck—he had been at the temple during the local semi-finals and had missed participating. Still, the Japanese team had a hell of a captain if her gaming stats were any indication.

Hanzo came in an hour later with a heavy, clear plastic water bottle with a huge filter in it and a pile of papers, a newspaper and a ledger. As soon as he was settled, he began filling in the ledger he precariously balanced on his knees, and examining the papers. It was a good thing that his tattoo was on his left arm because his right one was constantly busy writing notes and doing calculations. He was silent as the assistant began the tedious process of hammering the tattoo into his skin. For hours, as Genji listened to music or played games or fiddled around, Hanzo stayed still and steady, only occasionally sipping from the water bottle.

Genji sent a message, asking for lunch to be served as they lazed about. In dutiful fashion, a maid appeared with trays of food and nervous smiles as she set them next to the brothers. Genji offered her a smile, but Hanzo ignored her as he made a notation in the ledger.

“You do know you have lunch, right, Hanzo?” he asked innocently.

“I am busy, Genji,” was all he said.

“But...your lunch will get cold. And it’s your favorite—Kobe beef with broccoli and mushrooms.”

“I am fine, Genji. I am busy with the books.”

Genji let it go as he picked at the fine food. The beef wasn’t bad. The hand roll was his favorite—avocado and cucumber and carrots and big, sweet shrimp wrapped in nori and seasoned rice and sprinkled with green onions and eel sauce. The crispy tempura shrimp and sweet potato slices were delightful. The tiny mochi were fragrant with vanilla and tiny chocolate flakes.

“Eat, Hanzo,” Genji barked over his shoulder.

“I am busy, Genji.”

After another half hour, Genji was going to tell Hanzo to eat again. His brother had been done with the paper. The ledger was surely close to done, all things considered. His brother’s glances had slid to the tray of cold food more often, lingering over the frigid delicacies like a lover.

“Do you want another tray?” He grinned as Hanzo flushed. “I can send for another one—or leave you two alone together?”

Hanzo sighed heavily. His gaze slid to the tray again, only to turn away and stare at the wall again. “I am fine, Genji.”

“Han—I’ll get you something else—ouch, dammit!”

“My apologies, sir,” the assistant said—again, for the hundredth time that day. He took out a pad and wiped Genji’s skin with a thoughtful air. “Shall we continue?”

Genji nodded and glanced at Hanzo. “How are you so calm and collected?”

“I am—thinking of other things.”

“What kinds of things?”

Hanzo nodded and slumped down, putting the books aside. “For the moment, I am thinking of—.” He sighed heavily and took another sip from his bottle. “—of this being done.”

“All in good time, sir,” the horishi muttered.


	12. Chapter 12

The celebrations were the talk of the town as fortune tellers, musicians, acrobats, performers, and caterers bustled in and out. Ten food trucks and and more carts lined the formal gardens and set out small tables and benches and lit up lanterns or fairy lights. A huge truck with big notices to stay back and not smoke rumbled up to the gates and drove through to begin setting up by the lake. Every guest room was filled with relatives and brothers-in-arms and their families packed together like sardines.

As dusk fell, guests began filing out to the wide gardens and to the festivities. Acrobats began tumbling and balancing on their hands and on rubber balls. Dancers took out ribbons and fans and sparklers. Drummers and people played flutes or violins or sang stories. Every child was given an elaborate kite as families strolled through the gardens.

Genji was grateful Sojiro had insisted on formal, traditional kimono. Even he had to admit the fashionable suits he liked would have made him sweat and his new tattoo itch. A pretty maid came in each morning and evening to moisturize the sensitive skin and treat it with ointment. Then he had been presented with a new kimono with the Shimada crest on each lapel and a huge embroidered green dragon on the back.

He walked in, nodding to the shatei and kyodai that offered their congratulations. The carts were offering fresh, tasty, bad-for-you food. He could wander past the carts, picking up food and watching the performers. There were fortune-tellers as Sojiro had promised—one with unending cups of weak tea with loose leaves, one with a set of strangely marked sticks or dice, and another with a multitude of crystals. From somewhere, there was a collection of strangely dressed people with small drums or bells and strange contraptions on their backs displaying fans, parasols, rattles or small hand drums, toys or glowing necklaces or the like. Children darted around with small tickets to get their prizes.

It was strange, walking around the party like this. Every other time, he had been celebrating too, running to and fro to get food or drinks or toys. Now he was treated like an elder—carefully acknowledged and walked around as if getting too close was a sin. People who had laughed and joked with him at other parties now bowed solemnly and murmured their greetings in soft tones before solemnly presenting their families as if he was a stranger.

A little boy—some distant relative, he was sure—came running by with a kite in the shape of a carp on one hand and a roasted cob of corn on a stick in the other. Without looking, he slammed into Genji’s knees, almost falling over and dropping his corn.

Immediately his parents came forward, clucking and cooing and scolding in the softest and most inoffensive tones. Genji laughed at the little boy who stared up at him with a shocked expression. “Hey there. I remember you from New Year’s—you’re Akira.”

“We are so sorry, Shimada-sama,” the mother whimpered anxiously. She beckoned with delicate desperation and the child ran back to them to hide behind his suddenly weeping mother’s knees. “We do apologize and he will be taken home—.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. They kept bowing and backing away, their faces pale. Their father rushed up, scolding her in one breath and apologizing to him in the next. Now all of them were bowing and scraping and people were beginning to stare. “It was nothing.”

“We apologize, sir,” the father stuttered, his face pale and his forehead glittering with sweat. “Your kimono is ruined because—.”

“No—really. It’s nothing.” Genji sighed impatiently as they kept backing up. The crowd took one look at him and it was like the entire ring of them sucked in a nervous breath and backed up a few steps. “I’ll...just go get cleaned up and it will be fine.”

He ducked behind the carts and wound his way to his suite. The slight mess—crumbs and a slight smear of grease—was nothing. It was little boy dirt not worth worrying about and easily taken care of with a damp washcloth.

It was the stares he couldn’t wash away. The whole crowd had stared at him, backing away like he was a rabid lion. They kept staring at him now—glancing over their shoulders and around corners, pointing and staring at him uneasily. They moved around him in wide waves and flowing around him like he was poxed.

Genji went up to the highest balcony instead, to watch the crowds from a distance. He could finally breathe up here—and scratch. The tattoo still itched like crazy. He began to idly pick out people he knew, watching them pass beneath him. Was it his imagination or was the party suddenly louder and more festive now that he wasn’t in it?

He watched Hanzo—a solemn, darkly clothed bulk—walk along the outskirts of the crowd. Their father was on a temporary pavilion, talking to their uncles and drinking a lot of sake, if the numerous bottles and cups were any indication. He saw a lot of distant cousins and families running around and he could just about hear their happy sounds as they enjoyed the party he suddenly couldn’t.

“You are sad,” Kibo whispered in his head.

“Not now.”

“Why not now?”

“People will be watching.”

“Why?”

Genji sighed and rolled his shoulders. They ached from tension, but he wasn’t altogether certain why he should be tense. Or, for that matter, why he was alone, here on the balcony, instead of at his own celebration.

Finally, he answered the dragon, “Please just cooperate with me. We’ll stay back from the crowds today. And...and you can see the fireworks from here.”

“What are—?”

“You’ll see, Kibo.”

Genji heard the little snort of irritation and turned to watch his brother’s stately walk. Unsurprisingly there was a small tornado of activity around Hanzo—people coming up to offer shaky smiles and bowing and pulling their daughters forward as if they hadn’t ever seen him before. Hanzo did not attempt to smile, managing to bow and respond with a few words, but it was as if he had a sudden wall around him. Daughters and sisters who had mooned over him during the last New Year’s celebrations were suddenly solemn and quiet and reserved, backing away with their gazes lowered and darting away through the crowd as soon as his attention was elsewhere.

Unsurprisingly, Hanzo spotted him on the balcony. With a languid gesture, he excused himself and disappeared to climb up. In a few moments, his brother was next to him, staring up at the darkening sky.

As soon as the two of them were together, it seemed that the whole crowd turned to stare at them. Genji leaned casually on the edge of the balcony and waved as the female half of the crowd suddenly began buzzing with excitement. A few of the maids blew kisses and called his name and he only waved vaguely at them before backing away.

“How are you holding up, anija?”

“I am fine, Genji.” Hanzo sighed heavily and leaned back almost against the wall. “I am now and forever more will be fine.”

Genji had to laugh. “That sounds like a big dream to have.” His brother looked at him strangely. “To be fine forever? When even the tiniest thing can happen? A single bullet. A loose tile on the roof. A bad shrimp.”

For a moment, the elder brother’s eyes closed and it seemed he was praying. Genji tried not to stare at him, but it was rare to see such an expression on his face. Finally, he felt compelled to ask, “Ummm...you are fine, right? You feel well?”

When Hanzo opened his eyes, Genji felt a chill go down his spine. Those were the eyes of a man praying for death to release him from torment. But as quickly as that they were opened, they blinked and again they were hard and distant. 

“I am fine.”

Genji shrugged. “Err....okay. Umm.... So, I saw you with Mariko-san....”

Hanzo shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Is she still composing poetry about you?” he teased.

Hanzo shuddered. “I...do not think that she is.” He shrugged as if they hadn’t both howled in laughter the whole of last year as she kept slipping him poetry in a breathtaking number of forms from haiku to sonnets. “However, I believe she would be happy to entertain you, if you can make your way through the crowd to talk to her.”

“And have her composing poetry about me?” Genji groaned, making a face. “No thanks.”

“It is your party,” Hanzo murmured.

“It’s our party,” Genji insisted.

Hanzo shook his head slightly. “This is the party Sojiro wanted to throw for you.”

“But it is our success—together,” he snapped back. “We are brothers...remember?”

“We are brothers.” Hanzo at last smiled—halfway. “And it is good that I can still have a brother. But it is the party that Sojiro wanted to throw for you—to celebrate your success—so I would think you would want to enjoy it.”

“If it is my party, then it’s because you didn’t want it,” Genji snarled as Kibo kept pressing his headache with questions. “Whenever Father would bring it up, you would shut down and simply nod and agree to whatever he said. Father would have brought in archers and clowns and whatever else you might have wanted, but you didn’t say anything!”

Hanzo only gave a silent shrug. “Go enjoy yourself, Genji.”

“What do you want me to tell Father? That his oldest son is sulking because he didn’t get his way?”

Hanzo only shrugged. “I do not imagine that he will ask.”

Genji snarled, stomping away a few steps to get his temper under control. Finally he glanced over his shoulder, and saw his brother watching the darkening sky. Hanzo’s throat was bared as he kept his eyes up to the heavens and Genji felt a dark desire to slit his throat. It wouldn’t be hard....

Kibo let out a frightened chitter and Genji shook himself. Offering a soothing word or two to the dragon, he finally sighed and went back. “Hey...Hanzo. I’m sorry. I know things are...strained between you and Father right now.”

“I am fine, Genji.”

Genji took one look at him and decided not to press it. Glancing down at the milling crowd, he tried to gesture at a colorfully clad woman twirling a flaming baton. “So...did you see anyone you liked?”

That did startle a response out of his older brother. “What?!”

Genji grinned, ignoring that even his smile was strained. “Well, the first round of fireworks will be soon and Father said that we would have an...adult entertainment afterwards. Did you see anyone you liked?”

Hanzo grew pale and he actually shuddered. “I.... I do not think that I feel up to all of the celebrations.” He sketched a bow to Genji. “Please excuse me. I hope you enjoy the party.”

Genji frowned, watching as Hanzo suddenly bolted into the door, away from the balcony. He was about to follow, but the fireworks started just then. Kibo was entranced with the colorful sprays of sparks and had—yet again—a hundred or more questions. Everyone was amazed at the display and cheered as it filled the sky over and over with light and whistles and bangs.

The crowd dispersed then, most of the folks going back to their homes and the few that were staying that night going inside. As Sojiro promised, though, the fun didn’t stop. The carnival games were whisked away and made room for a beer garden and small groups smoked or lingered over tables with bottles and pills and the like. A collection of scantily clad dancers came out and performed with feline grace and overtly seductive moves.

Genji made his way back down to the gardens, amazed that the family fun had transformed into adult entertainment so quickly. His retiring uncles held court under one tent with a harried looking maid in a short dress serving saki and beer to whoever was nearby. They gave him respectful nods that were only enhanced with the alcoholic smiles on their faces.

No sooner had he drunk to his uncles’ health and begun walking back to the main building, than a dancer came up to him. She was beautiful in a sloe-eyed way, with long purple hair and an outfit meant to remind one of a harem slave. Slowly, she began peeling off the scarves covering her, letting them drop to the ground and collecting the catcalls and whistles of whoever was nearby. Genji stopped to watch her, feeling aroused and confused at the same time as she shimmied and twisted.

Suddenly, she looked up with a fearful expression and grabbed all of the scarves. She bowed low, backing away timidly and Genji saw Sojiro stalking up next to him. His father nodded stiffly at her and then faked a smile at him.

“Do you like this one, son?” he asked without subtlety. He pointed towards the retreating dancer. “Should I...?”

Genji just about choked at the blunt question. He had wanted to approach her quietly, but this brazen interruption only made him embarrassed for both of them. “Uhh...I was just watching.”

“Of course, of course.” Sojiro nodded, waving at a departing cousin. “But this is, of course, your celebration. If you happen to see something you like....” He shrugged meaningfully.

“Ahh...thank you, Father,” Genji murmured.

There was a long moment of silence and Sojiro seemed to be watching the entire field. Genji glanced around, hoping he wasn’t missing anything in the milling crowd, and was surprised when his father spoke again in a low voice. “I would have liked you to be the wakagashira, Genji.”

“Wha..what?!” Genji hissed beneath his breath.

Sojiro shrugged and pointed down a path towards another group of dancers—a pair of women dressed in nothing more than lace and high heels and cat ears as they writhed over each other—and Genji followed. Again, he spoke in a soft tone, “I had no choice. Hanzo....”

“Hanzo is your eldest son,” Genji murmured. “Of course he will succeed you.” Sojiro let out a sharp, almost angry sound and Genji rushed to reassure him. “And the clan will prosper with both of us working together.”

Sojiro sighed, “I suppose we will have to make the best of it. With him handling the day-to-day, you will have the time to spend crafting visions and carry us into the future.” They waved and nodded at another pair of men as they passed each other on the path. “Use him to your advantage.”

Genji swallowed heavily, trying to figure out what he was being told. Sojiro said nothing else on the topic. Instead, his voice rose and he seemed the congenial host again. They greeted the others, going back to the dais where the elders were drinking and watching the crowd. Everyone seemed to be in a silly, playful mood as they took out the small toys and made jokes and laughed and—above all—drank the plentiful sake provided.

Genji saw the little harem dancer one more time as they walked and frowned as she shimmied in front of one of his cousins. He knew that his cousin’s wife was just inside and pregnant with their first child and it seemed somehow unjust that the man was ogling the dancer as if she was a tasty treat for him alone. Sojiro followed his gaze and nodded slowly before giving him a roguish smile.

“I will...make your excuses, Genji,” Sojiro murmured with that cool smile. “Why don’t you take her with you?” He waved at a wearied looking maid who held a deep tray. As she came up, Genji could see that she had a small collection of shot glasses filled with clear liquor and then small china cups with various pills and vials in them. “Take your pick and celebrate tonight. Then you can sleep in tomorrow.”

Genji gave the nervous maid a gentle smile as he took a shot glass. Glancing at his father, he asked, “What about the meetings tomorrow morning?”

“Tch—I will be there and you only have a celebration like this once,” he grinned. “I will handle the morning meeting.” He waved airily at the dancer who knew exactly what he meant. “Go and have fun.”

Genji smirked and took a second shot. The purple haired dancer whirled around beguilingly, two of scarves floating like waves of pale pink. She gave him a smile as she twirled again and finally she floated closer. Finally she was in front of him, giving him a curtsy and a giggle. He offered her a shot and jerked his head.

Sojiro laughed huskily and wandered off as she took the glass and bowed towards him. Genji felt a flush on his cheeks as a distant murmur seemed to rise. She nodded and walked with him down the path. They wove through the crowd that parted to let them go through, nodding and smiling at him with soft words and knowing looks.

He made it inside to the hallway when she gulped her drink and set the cup aside to wrap her arms around his neck. This would be far easier than he expected and Genji grinned dropped a kiss to her forehead.

“Hey, cutie...could you tell me your name?”

She grinned, her eyes seeming wide and dazzled. “I’m Hana.”

“And I’m—.”

“You’re Genji,” she giggled. “Everyone knows who you are.”

He smirked at her, trying to figure out what to say next. A maid in a plain gray uniform bustled by with a covered tray and he pressed against Hana to let her pass. “So...what should we do now?”

She gave him a breathless nod and followed him gamely to his room. He took out another bottle and they took turns drinking mouthfuls. Genji grinned down at her as she settled on his bed, bouncing up and down on the plush mattress.

“It’s so bouncy!” she giggled up at him.

Genji laughed as her breasts jiggled up and down as well. “Indeed.”

Her legs were around his hips as he told Kibo—again—to just be quiet. He reached for the scanty bikini top and untied the little bows. The stretchy fabric snapped open and she gasped as a motley collection of pills sprayed out from under her breasts.

She turned a becoming red and scrambled to pick them up. “S-s-s-sorry!”

Genji picked up one of the pills and stared at it. The little pill was a pretty, sugary pink with a molded bird on top. It was a common prescription stimulant and the Shimada-gumi sold it all over Japan. His eyes flicked up to her, watching her anxious eyes and the slight tremor in her hands. He sighed as she wriggled around, collecting the pills again and dumping them in the padded cups of her sequined bikini top.

Kibo’s voice shook in his head. “What’s that?”

“The pill?” he replied mentally. “It’s a drug.”

“It is not good,” Kibo muttered. “It is not helpful.”

The girl’s voice interrupted him. “So where were we?”

Genji grunted at her, suddenly not as interested. It was a foolish thing, really, since they made so much money selling drugs to whoever would buy them. Her hands came up to trace the narrow overlapping collar on his kimono and began tugging on them. “Sorry—I got distracted.”

She grinned at him and bounced on the bed again. “Come on, and I’ll show you what’s going on.”

Kibo’s silent voice interrupted, “What is going on?”

Genji grimaced at the untimely interruption. “Ssssh, Kibo. Just...err, watch.”

She was a slippery eel in her costume as he pulled it all off of her. Genji grinned at the soft, bare skin and the scent of the peach cream she had rubbed over her scraped, hairless form. His fingers went shakily to her silky folds and began to gently stroke her.

“What are you doing?” Kibo interrupted silently again.

He dipped his head to between her legs, dragging his tongue along her scented slit. She gave a theatrical sigh and spread her thighs more. He grinned, nuzzling her soft skin with the thin, coarse line of stubble on the edge of his cheek. Her fingers came to rub her clit and he felt rewarded that more of the tangy slick began to creep out. He pressed his fingertips inside, curling them until she mewled.

Kibo whispered in his head, “What is that? Is she in pain?”

“No, Kibo—just watch,” he thought firmly.

He went to work on her, scissoring his fingers and gently thrusting in and out. She was not unwilling, at least, and her tight nipples were wonderfully sensitive. Genji was in a generous mood, and took his time getting her ready before turning off the light. Peeling off his formal kimono and kicking it aside, he knelt between her legs and told Kibo to hush again before thrusting inside her.

Immediately, she began a series of noisy pants and little cries. As Kibo questioned him again and he felt her shudder, he grunted at the theatric display. Her hands came up to stroke his skin and he growled, thrusting harder.

“Oh! Oh!” she whined as her hands gripped his shoulders. “You...you are so big and so strong!”

His eyes narrowed at her breathy voice. “Hold on, hime. It is going to get harder.”

Immediately, he braced and pounded between her legs. Her breasts jerked up and suddenly she let out a noiseless pant, her hands tightening. He kept going as hard as he could, his hands gripping her hips and pulling as hard as he could. She let out a startled, scared little cry and he felt suddenly aggressive.

The bed shook, rocking noisily, as he kept pounding inside her. His lips locked on her nipple, sucking and then nipping and then biting. Now her cries were even more frantic, her arms wrapping around him desperately. Instead, he pushed her down, bracing on her thin shoulders until she couldn’t move to escape him.

In a moment, he felt his rhythm falter and speed up. His cock felt swollen and throbbed as he pounded into her. Her hips were curled up, trying to meet him halfway as he crushed her into the mattress. In a few moments, he grunted sourly and pumped his seed into her as she gave a breathless whine.

He paused, panting for a sweaty breath and leaning over her. Her liquid hot core pulsed around him and her hips kept pumping. It grated his oversensitive cock and he growled at her. “Stop that.”

Her twisting stopped immediately. She gave a final shiver as he pulled himself to one side and dropped to the bed. She rolled and fumbled to find some tissues to clean them up. Then, as if she had gotten a cue from some unseen director, she slid on her costume and tucked the pills into her bra top and disappeared from the room with a quick exit.

Genji was about asleep when he heard Kibo—again. “What was that about?”

He groaned—out loud this time—and sighed, “It is pleasure, Kibo. It is what a man and a woman do to enjoy each other’s company.”

“Oh,” it whispered. There was a long pause and finally it sighed, “That was a lot of noise and mess.”

“Yes, Kibo,” Genji growled. “It sometimes is.” He tossed and rolled to his side and pounded his pillow. “And if there wasn’t a noisy damn dragon in my head every ten seconds, I might have enjoyed it more.”

There was an indignant snort and suddenly the dragon seemed to be quiet. He sighed—it wasn’t Kibo’s fault. He shuddered and decided that maybe a peace offering of some food would be in order. He could faintly hear bangs and figured that it must be another fireworks display. Sojiro must still be celebrating.

Finally, he said, “Kibo—let’s get some food.”

“Outside? Outside food is different.”

“No—just going to the kitchen.” Genji stumbled around to pull on some sweatpants. “Come on. Let’s go.” He cocked his head at the faint greenish mist starting to gather. “But stay hidden.”

“Why?”

“So that no one sees you.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “I’m getting food and bringing it back here. We can eat in here.”

“Why?”

“So that no one sees you.”

“Kibo thinks that you are ashamed of Kibo.”

Genji rolled his eyes and stumbled out of his room. There was a patter of footsteps and he glanced over his shoulder to see the same maid coming back down the hall with the covered tray. “Hey, there.”

She yelped and almost dropped the tray. The cover slid around drunkenly as she tried to steady it. “Oh! Master Genji! I apologize—I didn’t see you there.”

He grinned down at her pink cheeks. “What are you doing up so late?”

She raised the tray an inch. “I am finishing up now. I will...will not be in your way.”

He nodded absently and began wandering to the kitchen, hearing her turn away at the first hallway. From a few windows, he could see the last fireworks still popping in the sky and a thin crowd of mostly drunk or high people almost watching them. A few of them were tackling the last performers and pulling them into dark corners and more were heading back to find whatever places they could to sleep.

The kitchen was spotless and deserted as he stepped in. Grabbing three raw eggs, a handful of tiny mandarin oranges, and a bowl of leftover rice, he slid back to his room. Kibo came out immediately, grabbing the eggs and swallowing them with a purr. Before he could react, Kibo picked up an orange and bit through it. “Silly dragon—you need to peel them.” The dragon looked up at him sourly, spitting the bite out. “Let me show you.”

Kibo watched as he cleaned up the mess with some more tissues, emptying the box. Tossing the trash into the cardboard box, he peeled the next one and gave the dragon a sweet slice. Kibo smelled it with a scowl before deciding to gulp it. Apparently, it was much better and the dragon crawled into his lap to get more. Genji gulped the food he could, giving the pushy dragon slices of oranges as fast as he could peel them. Reaching for the bottle, he swigged a bit more, giggling at the silly dragon as it danced around, reaching for the next slice.

Really, he meant to only lay back and close his eyes, but the next thing he knew, brilliant daylight flooded his room. Kibo had made a royal mess of the last few oranges and was draped over his leg like a ferret. Genji groaned, looking at the filthy mess—rice grains in the sheets, the bottle empty against his leg, orange peels everywhere and the scent of sex in the room.

Staggering up, he held his head and limped to the bathroom. Thankfully, he had plenty of hot water to get himself cleaned up and presentable. Kibo frolicked in the water at his feet and made faces in the mirror as he shaved. Finally, the silly dragon looked up at and nodded at him, dissipating into mist before disappearing into his skin.

Genji grinned as he stepped out of his room and began going down to his father’s office. Two maids bowed and went to clean up his room. By this afternoon, it would be spotless again with fresh towels and a new box of tissues. He whistled softly, going down the hallway to where he, Hanzo and Sojiro all kept offices.

Hanzo’s door was open and his older brother was studiously typing on the computer, on the phone, and glancing up at the stock reports all at the same time. A small bowl of rice and a tea cup were on a corner of his desk. Genji gave him a half-wave, unsurprised that he didn’t even look up. Walking to the next office, Genji knocked and was surprised that the office was dark and empty. Frowning, he went back to Hanzo’s office and tapped the doorframe.

His brother jumped and looked up at him with wide eyes and a strange, tense frown on his face. He reached immediately for the remote and muted the news announcer and pointed to one of the two empty chairs. Murmuring excuses—no, really, he had no more time to discuss this today and would call back in a few hours—he hung up the phone and gave a thin smile.

“So you are awake,” Hanzo started, moving a pile of papers around. “I was starting to get...concerned.”

Genji nodded and smiled. “I was wondering if you and Father could join me for break—well...lunch.”

Hanzo looked at the computer screen and then his brother. “I do not think I will have time today. What about you and I do it tomorrow? Or I can do drinks at 7:30?”

Genji pouted. “Don’t you have any fun?” Hanzo’s dark gaze went to his with a skeptical look that seemed to scream something that he couldn’t quite grasp. “I mean—gees—you look like you’ve been here since last night!”

Hanzo shrugged. “I received a message last night that you both would be...unavailable and to take the morning meetings.” Genji rolled his eyes and groaned. “It seemed to be wise to come in early to figure out what needed to be done.”

Genji was about to give a snarky comment when there was another tap at the door. Turning, he saw that maid standing there with the covered tray that was apparently stuck to her hands. She took one startled look at them and bowed before turning and vanishing. Genji turned back to his brother just in time to see him start to say something, look at him, and sigh and nod to himself.

Tapping the keys on the computer, he muttered, “So, I will be available—.”

A loud buzzer rattled in the room, making both men start. Hanzo grunted sourly and collected a pad, two pens, and his phone. Looking at Genji, he explained, “Perhaps we should go.”

Genji frowned. “Go where? What was that sound?”

“It is to summon me to his office,” Hanzo explained. Genji gaped in surprise and finally got to his feet. “We should go.”

“What?!”

Hanzo stopped and whispered, “Do you not have a buzzer in your office?”

Genji shook his head in confusion. “No—Father just comes in and we talk.”

Hanzo paused at that, staring at nothing as if meditating on a koan or puzzling riddle. Finally, he nodded, glancing down at the pad in his hand. “So it is just me, then.” The buzzer sounded again angrily. “We will need to go now.”

Genji loped after his brother to the doorway at the end of the hall and they were let in to Sojiro’s office. Sojiro’s office was enormous in comparison to theirs—a full bathroom with a closet, a sitting area with two couches and a television, and then an office space with a board room table with eight chairs around it in addition to the heavy desk and huge chair. There was even a balcony overlooking a rock garden just outside the office.

Their father was standing at the desk with the silver buzzer remote in his hand and a scowl on his face. Hanzo bowed silently and Genji followed suit as the older man picked up his tablet computer and gestured at the table. They sat down and watched as he pulled out the chairman’s seat and settled in it with the computer in front of him.

Immediately, Sojiro’s dark gaze went to Genji and he smiled. “So, I hear that you had a good time last night, son?”

“Yes, Father,” Genji grinned, his cheeks turning faintly pink.

“Ahh...was she good?” Sojiro gave him a conspirator’s smile at his son’s nod. “Good—I will bring her back if you wish. I’m sure we will have plenty to celebrate in the future.”

Genji felt his whole face turn red. “Uhh.... Yes—we’ll have plenty to celebrate. In the future.”

“Now...I will expect you to ready in a few hours to go out with me,” he nodded. “I want to take you around to several of our businesses to meet the owners and let them know you are acting for me.”

Genji blinked, ignoring the slightly nervous chitter in his head. “Uhh...that sounds good, Father.”

He grinned wider. “I will save the good ones for last—the clubs and bars—so that we can grab a drink and dinner.” A few taps of keys and a swoosh sounded as a meeting invite was sent out. “And then the Diamond Club for last.” Genji nodded eagerly. “So, I will meet you at 2:00 today and then we will take the rest of the week to do the rounds so that you can see all of them.”

Genji nodded and took the pile of business profile sheets that Sojiro offered him. “This looks great.”

Sojiro grinned wickedly. “And that little dancer you liked is from the Diamond Club, too.”

Genji gave another enthusiastic nod, ignoring Kibo’s warning grunt in his head, and looked at Hanzo. “And we can all get to know the business, right?”

Sojiro flicked a stern look at Hanzo and then shook his head. “It would be better if it was just us, Genji.” He gave his younger son a thin grimace. “Besides, I have other tasks for Hanzo.” He went to his desk and pulled out a thick folder of papers. “I want you to focus on how to make things bigger and better. Do what you do best—dream and hope for a better tomorrow.

“Hanzo, I am going to leave these for you to do. I will expect a full report on these eighty businesses—profits and losses, liabilities, staffing, and so on—by the end of the week. I will also expect you to have complete investigations on the senior staff for each one and to identify any potential conflicts of loyalties. Then I want you to review the division of—.”

“Hey!” Genji burst out, although he couldn’t exactly have said why. Sojiro paused to look at him with a mildly interested expression. “Umm...why don’t we divide this up?” Hanzo said nothing—only took the pile of papers that he was offered. “I can do some and Hanzo can do some.”

Sojiro chuckled. “I need you out with me, Genji.”

Genji puffed out a nervous breath. “It’s just that.... Uhhh.... Hanzo—.” There was a long, long silence. “Nothing.”

“Tell me in the car, if you like, son,” Sojiro nodded. “And there will be a special project next week for you that I think you’ll be excited about.” He grinned. “I recently purchased a large, commercial building and I’d like you to see it and see what you can come up with. It’s a new building that will be built up to suit with whatever we decide we need in it. So, it can become the best new restaurant or a new bar or whatever you think that we can best use it for.”

Genji looked a little dazed as his father handed him the building specs. “This is in that hot new neighborhood, too—where the new gallery and the boutiques are.” The few photographs showed an almost completely empty interior. It had good bones and the location was prime, but what on earth was it to be? “What are you going to put in there?”

Sojiro laughed shortly. “I will take you there and we will see what kind of big ideas you can come up with.” He pointed dismissively at his older son. “I will make sure that you have the reports on the surrounding businesses as soon as possible, so you know the competition in the area.”

Genji stared at his older brother’s slightly bowed head in bewilderment. “I...uhh.... Thank you, Father. I’ll work with Hanzo on getting things together.”

“Good—I look forward to hearing your ideas.” Sojiro’s phone rang and he gave Genji a smile. “This is a call I am expecting. Nothing serious—but I need to take it privately.” Both sons rose and bowed low before picking up their things. “I’ll see you at 2:00, Genji.”

Dismissed, they quietly left Sojiro to his call and closed the door behind them. Genji took another look at the thin collection of papers—the building specs, the neatly organized list of clubs and bars to visit, reservation information for dinners for the rest of the week—and the wrist thick folder Hanzo carried. Slipping up beside him, Genji whispered, “We can work on it together, anija.”

“You and I have both been assigned our tasks, Genji,” Hanzo whispered back in a hollow voice. He stared down at the folder as if it held his death sentence in it. “I will put the reports on your desk as soon as I can.”

“Han—that’s gonna take you every minute from now until next month.” He offered up a sunny smile. “Let me take some of it—until 2:00 when I must go to my command performance.”

Hanzo said nothing, only went to sit down at his desk and open up the folder. He pulled out a number of the sheets and began making notes. Genji frowned, hoping that there wasn’t some silent dismissal he missed, and began watching his brother. There was a simple system—a pile of papers relating to nightclubs, another to stores, another to bars, another to restaurants, and then what appeared to be a miscellaneous pile that included the gallery, two small boutiques, a bank, and a rather exclusive massage parlor and spa. Each pile was then sorted into two stacks—publicly and privately traded—and those two stacks were sorted by some other means Genji couldn’t quite grasp.

The little amount of time went quickly as they began trying to figure out what they knew already. Hanzo pulled up a spreadsheet and typed in the publicly traded business names and began trying to collect the stock prices. Genji brought out his laptop and began doing research as well on the top ten companies while his brother got the next ten.

“Hanzo—how are doing for time?” Genji asked.

“Ten minutes to two,” Hanzo grunted. “You should leave now.”

Genji puffed out a breath. “Yeah. Are you good for now? Is there anything that I can do?” Instead of answering, his brother waved slightly, staring at the computer screen. “Should I have your dinner sent—?”

“No,” he grunted sharply. Genji let out a startled sound at his almost snarl and he looked up. “That is...I have made arrangements already.”

Genji gave a little smirk and tilted his head. “Oh?” At the stern and forbidding silence, he teased, “You work fast.”

Hanzo did not seem amused, and only stared up at him with strained eyes. “I have...not been totally ignorant of the situation. I made arrangements this morning.”

“Oh, really?” Genji made a face and made a kissy noise. “Is she cute?”

Hanzo frowned and looked down at the reports. “Hurry, Genji.”

Genji bolted down the hallway, dodging the silly maids and servants without seeing them. Sojiro was waiting at the front door, smirking at him as he burst out. “Ready, Father!”

Sojiro only nodded sagely and gestured for the bodyguards to open the doors. The trip downtown was quiet as they toured the businesses. Every club had some signature drink to try, a bit of food to eat, and then a brief introduction to the owners and managers before they left.

Genji fumbled with the numerous business cards as they left the third club. These would be invaluable to Hanzo, surely and he slid them into his slender holder. Grinning, he looked out the window and was surprised to be pulling up to a dark building with construction debris around it. Sojiro said nothing, only stepped out and led him inside with an electronic pass key.

As predicted, the room was barren, but had potential. There was plentiful space with good electric sources and he could see the busy street just outside the huge windows. The floors were good, but a little scuffed and not at all glamorous. He stared at the wide open space, trying to figure out what could happen here.

“So what do you think?” his father asked. “What could happen here?”

Genji took a few more paces, looking around and trying to gauge the space. “I think this is a good location, but....”

“But what?”

“We have....uhh....” Genji realized that it was terribly hard to think when he had drunk. “There’s a number of bars and places on this street. There’s a gallery already. A few restaurants.”

“So this needs to be different.”

Genji stared at the room, pulling out the collection of cards to stare at the names on them. “We can....” He looked at the cards again. “Let me—.”

“Of course—you need to think.” Sojiro began a leisurely pacing around the room, as if he could see something Genji couldn’t. “It will take time.”

“I can....” Genji cocked his head. “What about...?”

Sojiro’s phone rang and Genji looked around again. This building could be anything really. A boutique would work. This could be an industrial nightclub—but there was one already. A country, western thing?

Kibo spoke up in his head. “What is country western thing?”

Genji glanced around, looking and seeing only his father pacing and talking. He finally felt like he could really answer—with his voice this time. “It’s a club. A place to dance and have fun.”

“Dragons do not dance.” Kibo’s voice was indignant. “Is it fun?”

“Yes, Kibo. It is a lot of fun.” Sojiro looked at him quizzically. “It is a lot of fun to dance and drink and have fun.” His eyes drifted around the building. “And I’m looking for ideas.”

Sojiro’s voice cut in. “Genji—we need to be leaving. We are expected at the Diamond next.”

Genji nodded again. Somewhere different. Somewhere that women would want to come, which would attract men. Somewhere that could appeal any time of year. He walked slowly to the car, looking at the various places and the places that women were gathered around.

Sojiro’s voice dropped as if he was avoiding disrupting Genji’s thoughts. “We can get you anything—anyone—you need for this project.” Genji nodded blankly. “I know you can come up with something bold and creative.”

“Something...different.” Genji’s eyes caught on a group of women outside the boutique, staring at the dresses in the window. “Say—we only have the two boutique fashion stores in this area, right?”

“Yes. Have you thought of something so soon?”

Genji nodded slowly. “I think so. But...I need more information.” He glanced at his father. “So, I can have anyone I need?”

“Yes—of course.”

“Then, I need Hanzo.”


	13. Chapter 13

Genji spent a while with his father at Diamond. His little dancer was there—a coyly dressed bunny now—and he got her name and a number this time. She also had two friends—a frilly dressed French maid and a primly dressed student in a uniform no school would ever allow—and he bought them all drinks. Sojiro hung back, talking to a few people who he knew and getting a collection of papers and a plain satchel from the manager.

It was well after midnight when they wandered back to Hanamura. Genji held his aching head slightly, trying to sort out what was the alcohols in his system sloshing his wits and what was exhaustion and what was Kibo making a constant racket about in his head.

Genji staggered in the hallway. Hopefully his brother was still awake. Or maybe not since it would mean he could get some sleep and sober up a bit. His father’s office was locked up and dark with a man standing by the closed door. For some reason he couldn’t think about, there was a similarly suited man at his own door but no one was at Hanzo’s.

His brother’s office door was closed, but there was still a light on, so Genji grinned at the guards in the hallway and tapped on the doorway. For a while, there wasn’t anything, but then finally there was a shuffle and Hanzo opened the door just a bit.

“W-w-what is it, Genji? What-d you want?” he slurred.

Genji stared at his normally neat brother with his coat over his shoulders, his shirt creased and wrinkled, his tie almost completely off with the knot halfway down his chest and his hair in frizzy tangles. For a moment, he didn’t seem to be real. Hanzo glared at him, standing up straighter and closing the door behind himself.

“What is it?”

“I need your help,” he panted.

Hanzo glared at him. “I will have your reports to you as soon as I can.” His voice seeped with tension and anger and some other thing Genji couldn’t quite name right now. “I need—.”

Genji looked at his brother’s dangerous, bloodshot eyes. “You need some sleep.” He puffed out a breath. “I...will wait.”

“Go-o-od,” Hanzo nodded shakily. “I will see you in the morning again.” He shook his head. “I will see you in the morning...then.”

“What time?”

“What time do you get in?”

“5:30.”

“Dammit. Okay—how about—.”

“7:30, then. We can meet then, if you wish.”

Genji nodded slowly. “Okay. 7:30. How about here? I’ll have someone bring in breakfast.” Hanzo only nodded slowly, his eyes almost closed. “I’ll...uhh....”

His brother was already turning away and going back inside. Genji stood in the hallway for a moment more, uncertain what to do. Hanzo did not reappear, the light did not turn off nor did the flickering television. Finally, he went back to his room and got ready for bed to sleep. He waited for a while, staring at nothing in the quiet room, waiting for something. The lights were off, but his door was cracked open in anticipation.

“Why are we not asleep?” Kibo whispered.

He grinned. Even the manic little dragon seemed exhausted—at last. “I’m...just waiting.”

“Why?”

There was a long period that Genji didn’t answer. Then he heard the soft scrapes and couldn’t help grinning. He saw the shadows slink past—his huge brother hunched over and limping along with a smaller form. He couldn’t help but smirk at his brother being put to bed like any drunken relative. Suddenly he felt peculiarly smug and sleepy.

“Now we can sleep.”

But still, something did not feel right. Even in his sleep, there was a slight confused and disturbed tone to his rest and his dreams. He woke several times, disoriented even though he was in his room. At some unholy hour, he summoned a weary and shocked maid to bring him a snack and something to drink. As soon as he could, he was back asleep and he never heard his brother getting up and going back to his office.

A knock at his door woke him up and the servant bowed when he answered it. “Sir—Master Hanzo sent me to wake you up.”

“Huh? Oh yeah. We’re meeting at 7:30.” Genji grunted sourly at the strange taste in his mouth. “Could you send some breakfast? Say—what time is it?”

“It is 6:45, sir.”

“Send us breakfast at 8:00, then.”

The servant bowed and nodded. “Is there anything that you would like?”

“Just whatever Hanzo normally has is fine.”

The servant looked at him in shock. “Are—are you sure?”

Genji nodded bitterly. “Sure. Whatever he has.” He shuddered as the servant bowed again and shuffled away. “Thanks.”

He got dressed and cleaned up in a casual suit. The nascent idea that he had was finally blooming in a haphazard way and if anyone could help him get it together, it would be his big brother. He grinned at Kibo’s faces in the mirror and tapped his arm.

“Come on, Kibo. Or we’ll be late.”

“Why?”

“Just come on.” Genji gave him a stern look. “We’ll be late.”

They made it to the door right at 7:30. Hanzo’s door was open and, of course, he was hard at work with piles of paper around him, the computer churning, the television muttering stock reports, and his phone flickering. Genji tapped the door and plopped on the chair, grinning at Hanzo as he hammered out another line on the page he was working on.

“Hey...Hanzo—can I talk to you?”

“Of course, Genji.” Hanzo paused long enough to give him a shallow nod. “I told you I would make time today.”

“So, I was thinking—about the space Father wants me to do.” Genji flopped around and yanked up an envelope and began scrawling on it. “I was thinking that I could do a club.”

Hanzo’s eyes looked a bit sharp and he glanced at one of the largest piles of papers on his desk. “Go on.”

“Well...I don’t know how to phrase it.” He waved impatiently. “I can run numbers and stuff like that, but I don’t know how to...well, how to spin it.” He sketched out a rough diagram. “So we have the clubs and bars all around, but they don’t have a lot of shops—particularly not high end shops.

“So, I was thinking—what about a club that caters to what women want. Then the guys will follow them. If we put in some high end stores here, here and here on the edges, then this middle area will be the club. Over here, there can be a bar and in the back are the plugins for a kitchen. If we put in a raised dancing area—it will look a little like a runway—and we can use it for shows and stuff. Maybe put in a guy area over here—a cigar store or something.” 

He tossed the pencil down on the desk and stared at the messy drawing. “I don’t know how to even begin, though. I mean—everything sounds good in my head. And then I don’t want to waste a lot of time and money if it won’t work.” He slumped in his chair. “And then what will Father say?”

Hanzo only hummed and stared at the drawing. “It might work, but it will take a lot of time looking at the types of boutiques. It might be better to have this one be a liquor store—where they can take home a bottle of the liquor they had at the club. Then over here—the cigar store with a whiskey bar. These two can be for shoes or for...perhaps dresses. Something small that won’t require a lot of room for stock or that can be ordered and shipped later.”

“Perhaps makeup. And then women can go in and get their makeup freshened and whatnot.”

“That might work.” Hanzo nodded. “It would be something different, too—a place to show off high fashion. If there’s room for a second floor, then you can increase the possibilities for stock storage.”

They scribbled squares and lines and compared notes. The club began to take a rough sort of shape with its small areas for shopping with a high energy vibe in the middle. It was something of a surprise when a servant tapped on the door.

Genji looked up and grinned at the covered tray. “Good—breakfast.”

The servant gave him an anxious look. “Sir—it is...what you ordered.”

“Yeah—I’m starved,” he grinned. Carefully moving a pile of papers, he tapped the desk. “Let’s eat.”

To his surprise, a small bowl was set down with a half cup of rice. The servant put a similar bowl down in front of Hanzo and then gave them both a pot of hot tea and two cups. Genji stared at the meager portion and scowled.

“Okay...so, ha-ha. Where’s breakfast?”

“That is...is what you ordered, sir,” the servant stammered softly.

“I ordered—.”

“Exactly what Master Hanzo normally has for breakfast.”

Genji scowled and glared at his brother. “You’re behind this.” Hanzo’s eyes went cold and he said nothing. “Fine...so the joke’s on me. Let’s eat.”

Hanzo nodded at the other man, who gratefully disappeared. With an uncharacteristic dip of his head, he stared at the small bowl in front of him without meeting Genji’s confused gaze. “This...is what I have.”

“Really?” Genji snorted. “That’s crazy—how do you stay upright? Where’s the protein?” Hanzo only shrugged and bowed his head over the papers. “I’m only going to eat this to be polite.”

They had a few bites apiece when the buzzer sounded, ripping through the office like lightning. Genji rolled his eyes at the harsh intrusion and Hanzo’s sudden fuss to grab a pad and pens. He stretched and stood, walking down the hall and getting to his father’s office to sit at the table.

His father had a wide smile for him and asked warmly, “How are you doing this morning, son?”

“I am well, Father. How are you doing?”

Sojiro nodded with that catty grin. “I am doing well. How else should I be doing when my son has set his feet on a path to succeed me?” He shrugged slightly. “And we had a good evening did we not?”

“Yes, Father,” Genji grinned.

“Good.” He raised his eyebrows slightly. “And don’t forget that we will be going out again today at 2.”

Genji felt a smile grow on his face, despite the thick atmosphere of the room. “Sounds good.”

Suddenly, his father’s indulgent and playful mood seemed to evaporate as he looked at his older son. His eyes sharpened and his smile thinned into an angry scowl. “And what have you managed to accomplish so far?”

Hanzo’s face was tight and only serene on the surface. Not even muscle betrayed whatever he was thinking. “I have begun the research and—.”

“So you haven’t finished?! I expected more of you.” He growled bitterly as the object of his rage bowed his head. “I told you that it was important.” Without waiting for a reply, he snarled, “And I suppose that you haven’t finished balancing the books either? What about the monthly financial reports?”

Genji blinked nervously. There was no way that all that could be done. No one could have done it. He looked at his brother who seemed to simply be waiting for it all to be over. “Uhh...Father—that is.... I was...working with him—.”

Finally Sojiro’s bitter gaze turned to him and Genji felt his blood run uncomfortably cold under it. He actually squirmed a bit under that stare. “You were?” Genji nodded shortly, feeling his face flame and his hands curled in his lap under the table. Then his father turned back to Hanzo. “And you were still unable to get anything done?”

Finally, Hanzo’s voice came out. “I have finished the books for the month and the financial reports. I have sent you the soft copies and the hard copies will finish printing—.”

Sojiro gave him an angry snort and waved dismissively. “I suppose we will see if you can get anything done tomorrow.” Hanzo said nothing, and just gave the smallest of nods. His eyes flicked up and glittered at Genji before dropping to the table again. “I will expect your best.”

“Yes, sir.”

The older man gave a growl in his throat and waved again. “Dismissed. Now.” 

Hanzo stood up and bowed low to them both and disappeared again. Genji watched him curiously and then looked up at his father with no small amount of confusion. “So...?”

“So we will proceed with the tour. There are a few meetings set up and dinner at the gourmet bistro down the road.” He waggled his finger playfully. “Unfortunately, we won’t be hitting Diamond tonight, but we’ll stop at midnight.”

“Th-that’s good,” Genji flushed. Could his father be any more obvious? Was he trying to...do what? He thought hard for a moment and finally suggested, “Could Hanzo come with us?”

“Why on earth would you want that? He would just get less work done.”

Genji nodded slowly, his tongue thick and his throat dry. “I just thought...maybe he could see the new building. And...he’s been up since 5:30–.”

“Is that what he told you?” he snorted in obvious disbelief. “He would have all those reports done if he was that industrious.”

Genji didn’t know what to say to that. “I just thought it might...help.”

“No...no, I don’t think so. Let him stay in his office and see if he can get something useful done.” He sighed. “But you and I will be busy anyway.”

Genji nodded again in relief. In a few minutes, he was dismissed and he fled to his office. Surprisingly, his office was a clean, modern affair of glass and steel and sharp lines. He could honestly say that it was this clean because he tended to do his best thinking outside of it. Almost as soon as he sat down at the desk and turned on the television, someone came in with a heavy tray of a large pot of tea, a cup, a plate of pastries, a pristine copy of the paper, and a manila folder of printouts.

Genji took it all with a wide grin and a hearty thank you to the servant who bowed and nodded with a smile. The tea was hot and fragrant and fresh and it was a pleasure to give Kibo a messy bit of the cherry pastry. 

He took a while to comfortably read through the reports. The tables and charts were almost as easy to read as a comic strip and accounting was practically his second language. Profits were good for this month, but down a bit for the quarter. Expenses were rising, but who didn’t see that coming with the rise in taxes this year? He read the whole thing in an hour and, honestly, wasn’t displeased with the results compared to this time last year.

Kibo kept pacing the room, sniffing in every corner and poking everything with green claws. “Why are we still here?”

“We are working,” Genji sighed, turning the page.

“Why?”

Genji paused. Why was he doing this again? “Uhh...it’s what I’m supposed to do?”

He braced himself for another string of ‘why’ questions, and so was surprised when all that came back was. “Oh.”

Through his open doorway, he saw a servant—an older maid who had been at Hanamura forever—come through with a lunch tray and take it to his father. Suddenly, he glanced at the clock on his computer and realized not only was it lunch, but he was famished. As she came back through, he waved at her.

She bowed at his doorway. “Good day, Master Genji. How may I help you?”

“Bring me—that is, uhh.... Could you bring me lunch, too?” She gave him a playful, scolding look and wagged her finger at him. “Please, Sakura-san?”

“That’s better,” she grinned at him. “Your honored mother has found her place in paradise, but I am sure that she still occasionally wonders who taught you manners.”

He laughed shortly. Sakura had been scolding him about his manners since he had been small. “Thank you for reminding me, Sakura-san.”

“I will bring you a tray, of course,” she said with a friendly bow. “Just remember to eat your vegetables and—.”

“Of course,” Genji nodded. She had also been scolding him about eating vegetables and drinking lots of water and getting exercise and doing homework for years, too. “And then I will brush my teeth and go to bed early.”

She nodded with a friendly smile and bowed again. Hanzo appeared in doorway, holding a neatly clipped stack of papers. Sakura looked at him and gave him a shallow bow and said nothing, only went on.

Hanzo looked at him with a tight grimace. “If you are available?”

Genji nodded, “Of course, anija.” Hanzo slid into the chair with his report. “What can I do?”

“I have finished the reports on the two boutiques and the restaurants.” He passed over the reports. “If you care to look over them?”

Genji took them with a look of confusion. “I.... What...?” Hanzo’s look was still tightly formal, as though he was looking at a stranger rather than his brother. “Uhh...sure.”

“Are there any questions—sir?”

“What?!” Genji scowled. “I just got them.” Hanzo didn’t appear to notice his outburst. “Umm...okay. How about we look at them over lunch? I’ll call Sakura to bring a double tray—.”

Hanzo only shook his head. “I will not interrupt your...meal.” They stared at each other for a moment. “I am available all afternoon if you have questions.”

“Nah...just sit with me a minute and we can go over the numbers.” Genji saw the gap between them as though he was sitting on the edge of the canyon. “Seriously—if all you ate for breakfast was that bowl of rice, then you need a good lunch. Let me call down—.”

“Not at all,” Hanzo protested hurriedly. “I will only be in your way and I still have work to do. If you have questions, then I will be happy to answer them.”

Before Genji could protest, he stood again and bowed before leaving. Sakura came in only a few minutes later with a tray laden with food and more tea. She cleaned up the previous tray and pot with a smirk. In a moment, she was gone again, leaving him to his feast alone.

It made him thoughtful, as Kibo elected to reappear. There was another selection of fruits—including two more mandarin oranges—and Genji peeled them before tossing them to the dragon. He had soup, five pieces of sushi, a deep bowl of rice, grilled tuna, another deep bowl of stir-fried vegetables. Kibo stood underneath the glass, staring up at the dishes curiously.

“They are trying to make us fat,” he laughed.

“Why?” it asked.

“It’s an expression.” Genji stuck his tongue out at the dragon. “It...I mean that they have given us a lot of food.”

“Why?”

“Sakura-san has always looked out for me and given me huge portions. She thinks I am too thin,” he replied as he picked up one of the bites of sushi. “I think that she wanted to be a mother and couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Kibo—and don’t ask her! It’s private.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s private.” He sighed. “Look...it is something that makes people uncomfortable. So it’s best not to talk about it.”

“Why?”

“So their feelings don’t get hurt.”

It thought for a moment and nodded. “Hurting is bad.”

“Yes, Kibo.” Genji gave the dragon another half orange. “Hurting is very bad.”

“My brother is hurting.”

Genji tilted his head. “Hanzo?”

“Yes...my brother Hanzo is hurting.”

Genji picked up a piece of sushi and gave it to the dragon. “I...I guess he is upset about the workload.” He looked at the curious dragon as it chomped the tasty bit. “It’s tough to try to take on a new job.”

“My brother Hanzo is hurting.” Kibo scrabbled to sit on Genji’s lap. “But it is an old hurt that he hides.”

“Wait...how do you know this?”

Kibo looked over the food carefully and picked up a circle of carrot. “His dragons talk too much.” It gulped down the vegetable with a gulp and then shrugged and picked up a pen to stare at it. “They come out at night and try to find what he is looking for.”

“Why?” Genji asked softly.

“My brother Hanzo is looking for something. He is looking and looking and does not find it, so he loses hope.” It tapped the end of the pen on the glass a few times. “It makes him hurt.”

“What is he looking for, Kibo?”

Kibo tapped the pen a few times, making it rattle against the glass before it tossed it aside. It spun across the desk, drawing reckless arcs on the papers. Genji watched as the dragon chased it and picked it up again to drag it across the papers. It let out a pleased hum as a thick, dark line appeared.

“Kibo—what is he looking for?”

“It hurts us. My brother Hanzo is not looking for power or gold or anything that dragons know. Shokan and Kenryoku do not know what it is.” It shook his head. “My brother Hanzo does not have words for what he seeks.”

Genji nodded thoughtfully. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

Kibo gave him a strange look, as though deep in thought. Finally, it sighed. “It hurts. Do we make my brother hurt?”

“I...I don’t think so.”

Kibo gave a slight nod. “I will ask them again. Maybe it will be different.”

Genji flinched as the dragon suddenly dematerialized again and he felt the now-familiar static burn on his back. He had a million more questions, but it was obvious that the little dragon was not interested in answering now. He wolfed down the rest of the meal, trying to think.

He realized it was about time leave just as he finished. Hanzo’s report was most enlightening on the businesses’ and their positions. It firmed the nascent idea for the club in his mind—the idea could be profitable if they positioned it right. Still—what did he know about building codes and design? He would need assistance, experts and architects, to get this rolling. 

His father was probably expecting a full write up tonight, if Hanzo’s workload was any indication.

He walked out to leave, unsurprised that Hanzo’s door was still open or that the man was still working at his desk with manic determination. It appeared that Sakura had cleaned up the ill-fated bowls of rice from this morning, but he couldn’t see where she had left anything for lunch. Genji stared silently from the hallway as he kept pounding his keyboard.

It was the maid coming down the hallway that attracted his attention. She stopped in the hallway with an oversized steel lunchbox in one hand and a stack of papers and books in the other. Her uniform made her a gray form like the rest of the servants who were supposed to fade into the background. Still, he did remember her and she had pretty eyes and a delicate little mole on her cheek.

“Oh—Master Genji!” she whimpered, bowing low and almost dropping everything. 

“Hey there,” he nodded. “So...what’s your name?”

“I...I am Akane,” she whispered softly, her face tomato red.

“Hey there, Akane,” he chuckled. “Where are you headed?”

She shuddered and stammered, “I—I...I was—. I am going—.” She whined a soft note, her face turning all red. “Please...I am not—.”

Genji felt vaguely alarmed that she seemed to turn almost green. “Are you okay? I mean—you don’t look well. Can I help you with that?” He bent to pick up a paper that fluttered out of her grasp. He stared at it for a moment, amused that it appeared to be from a profit and loss statement. “How about I help you—where were you going?”

She shook anxiously and more pages seemed to be escape her grasp. “No! Not really—I am...I am just fine. I will get this cleaned up and...and.... It is no problem. No problem and I hope that you have a great day and I will get this cleaned up—.”

“Akane-san,” Hanzo said softly from his office. They looked up at him as he crouched in the doorway, his face ashen. “Come.... My...my brother is busy this afternoon and I will help you pick up.”

Genji stared between them and gave his brother a wicked grin. “Oh, really?”

Hanzo slid close to her and began taking the papers and picking up the ones off the floor. She looked up at him with sudden tears going down her cheeks and a grey pallor on her skin. He sighed and took all of the papers from her and waved down the hall. Suddenly, she bowed again and ran back down the hall, the steel lunchbox clunking on her legs.

Genji sighed and helped his brother scoop up the pages. Hanzo’s face was solemn and looked mournful as they sorted the carefully numbered and typed pages. “There’s all of them.”

Hanzo nodded and stared at them in his hand. “That is all of them.”

Genji watched as he stood slowly and walked back with his shoulders hunched as if he was carrying heavy stones in each hand. Very slowly, he went back to his desk and carefully set the pages into a new pile. If he hadn’t known that his father was waiting for him, he would have waited and watched, but as it was, he was late.

Sojiro didn’t seem to even notice he was late. They went out to clubs and bars just like before and talked to managers and servers and bosses. It was almost relaxing to just sit and talk with them. After all, he had to only talk to them, drink their liquor and listen to their problems and ideas. Even though he was still green to this, he felt like he did at least have his father to lean on. And every idea that one of the managers came up with, he stored in the back of his head to see if he could work it into the new business.

As they drove back to Hanamura that night, Genji felt suddenly a bit tense. Sojiro had not said a word, not a peep about the empty building and his plans. Instead, his elder just sat back and stared out the window at the passing cityscape.

Kibo spoke in his head, “Are you hurting?”

He answered equally silently. “No...just a bit tense.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have any answers.”

“No one does,” Kibo replied reasonably.

“Father will expect them.”

“Father is old.” Genji laughed at the dragon’s impudent response, making Sojiro glance at him and raise an eyebrow. “Now, Father is worried, but even he cannot get the impossible.”

Genji didn’t know what to say. That seemed important, but he didn’t exactly know what to do with that information right at the moment. Despite his father’s stare, he continued silently, “Let’s talk about this later. Just get us to the house, huh?”

Sojiro’s voice interrupted. “Tell me...does your dragon often make you laugh?”

Genji jerked slightly at the sudden question. “Yes, Father. Kibo does make me laugh.”

He nodded thoughtfully and seemed to relax for a moment. “That is good. It is priceless to have a companion that gives you ease. Makes you laugh.” There was another sigh in the dark. “Your mother was good at that—making me laugh and enjoy life—and I found that as she did, she made me think.” The silhouette of Sojiro nodded. “And when my guard was down, she would slip in an idea or two that would make me a better man and a better leader.”

Genji sighed, “I don’t remember her very well.”

“She died from pneumonia when you were two.” There was a pause as if the memories were too thick to think for a moment. “You are a lot like her—her smile, her looks, her easy laugh. You even have her knack for dreams and hopes. It gives me a good feeling to think that she lives on in you.”

“Did Hanzo know her?”

“Hanzo? He was just about to turn six. He was in school and when I told him—he seemed to go insane. It was three days before he could return to his school. You were just getting to where you were out of diapers and I hired a nanny to take care of you.”

“But he missed her.”

“Indeed—he missed her, but there was never any danger of losing him. You were so small, we were all focused on making sure that you lived through the loss.”

“Oh?”

“Sometimes...when a small child loses their mother, they have difficulty and sometimes follow them into the abyss.” Sojiro sighed sadly. “You were devoted to her. She was old-fashioned and nursed you herself despite us being able to afford nannies and all the help she could have asked for. She watched over you and Hanzo both until he went to school. Then, when she died, I did the best I could to make sure that you were safe.”

“And Hanzo?”

“He spent three days in a ridiculous temper tantrum of grief. He utterly disgraced her memory sobbing like that. I could not even have him with me throughout the funeral. She would have been ashamed.” He let out a snarl. “I had no time to deal with him—not with the clan falling apart under the attacks from a rival gang, ensuring your safety, and the grief I felt.”

“And then what happened, Father?”

“Then, we rested. After that, we had nothing to do but to go back to our life as we knew it. He went to school. I went to work. You went with the nanny.” Another sigh. “I made sure that she had a small child so that you had someone to play with. And when you could, you went to preschool and could play and enjoy your life. I planned then to spend time with you each day—even if it was only an hour or two—so that you could be ready and able to succeed when your time came.”

Genji nodded silently. Kibo slid from his back to his arm and he absently stroked the new resting place. In return, he felt a welling of soothing contentment that rushed through him like a drug. He bit his tongue to stop from gasping at the sudden peace.

Once again, he got to Hanzo’s office. His brother was still sitting at his desk, staring at reports. “Hanzo—it’s like one in the morning. What are you doing here?”

“I am working on the financial reports.”

“Don’t you sleep?! Come on—this is not human.”

“I need to finish by the end of the week.” Hanzo let out a growl. “On Friday, I will have the chance to rest.”

“You need to sleep now!” Genji insisted. “At this rate, by Friday you will be dead.”

“These reports need to be finished.”

Genji flinched. “I...I will speak to Father.” He pulled out the stack of business cards. “And I can help you.”

Hanzo stared up at him with bleak, red eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah—I’ll help.” Genji gave him a weak smile. “And because you are my brother—I’ll even show up at 7:30.”

“A great sacrifice, I am sure.”

“Indeed,” Genji said gravely, despite the laughter in his eyes. “I need my beauty sleep.” Hanzo shuddered and stood up. Unexpectedly, he wove as if his legs could not hold him up. Genji grabbed him and helped him stand. “So, let’s go to bed.”

Genji drug his brother through the estate. Hanzo kept staggering on through the hallways as Genji help hold him up. They passed several empty suites—luxurious suites that could hold family or highly prized guests—and even two plush suites that previously held favored courtesans. Finally, at the edge of the family wing, Hanzo nodded at a door.

There did not seem to be the normal warmth or even...people around his suite. He had a pair of tiny apartments near his own for the two servants assigned to keep his suite clean and to do any general running around—getting his dry cleaning, taking his laundry and setting it back in the wardrobe and cabinets, picking up any of the debris from any snacks he had in the room, and—of course—occasionally stocking his room with high quality alcohols. Instead, this was quiet and... neglected.

“Come on, Han—this is a servant’s room.”

“My room—such as it is.” He slid open the door and staggered inside, Genji still at his shoulder. “I am fine, Genji.”

Genji gaped at the all-but-barren room. There was a closet with no door that held his suits and and a large chest that, judging from the neat pad of paper and the coil of a charging cord on it, served as a sort of table. There was a second chest—undecorated and the latch was hanging on by a single screw—against another wall. A wicker basket was the newest thing in the room and it was empty.

“Han—what is this place?” Genji gaped.

“It is my room.” He staggered to a ratty chest against the far wall and pulled out a plain futon and a singular blanket and pillow. “It is where I sleep.”

“It is absolutely empty,” he gasped. “I mean...there’s nothing. Just...nothing.” He whirled as Hanzo unfolded the futon and settled the pillow and blanket on it. “We have the room. Tons of rooms that have bathrooms and suites that have real furniture...and....”

“And this is where I sleep.” Hanzo stood and stiffly slid off the suit jacket to put on its hangar and then dumped the stiff, button down shirt in the wicker basket. “What do you want?”

“At least...is there someone to call? Don’t you have a valet or a maid or someone that helps you?” He puffed out a breath. “I mean...I have two people who manage and take care of my suite.”

He pulled his hair down, carefully setting the ties and the length of golden colored cotton in its apparent place on the chest/desk. Shaking his head, he whispered, “There is no one to call. Especially not at this hour.”

“But—anija—.”

“Let me sleep—if that is truly your wish for me.”

Genji let himself be pushed out the door and watched it slide closed. Even the hallway seemed strangely dimmed as he wandered past the doorways. One was even open, showing an immaculate room with a thick futon, an antique wardrobe and matching desk in front of an elegant chair with a thick scarlet cushion on it. Genji could see the discrete heater in the corner, along with the heavy doors undoubtedly leading to a servant’s bedroom and to a bathroom.

He stared at the closed bedroom door across from his own where he would have sworn was Hanzo’s room. He hadn’t noticed when it had first stayed closed. How long had Hanzo been in that wretched hovel, sharing the bathroom down the hall like any common servant? How long had it been?

Anxiously, he pushed open that door. The suite that was supposed to hold the Shimada Scion was immaculate in its antique good taste. The dais that was to hold the thick futon gleamed with polish. The bathroom shone in gleaming white tiles with thick white towels. Even the servant’s quarters of the suite were spacious and showed near constant cleaning and attention.

But there was nothing. No one had lived in here in weeks or months. The linens were fresh smelling, but obviously unused. The incidental supplies on the desk—heavy vellum papers, a sleek phone connected to the estate switchboard, fine fountain pens—were untouched. Probably, the only reason that the room did not smell unused was the small dish of dried sakura and rose petals on the desk.

A low chuckle came from the doorway. “So, are you finally seeking your rightful place, my son?”

Genji whirled and saw his father standing in the doorway. “N-n-no.... I was...”

Sojiro made a rude sound, waving dismissively. “This is the traditional suite of the Shimada Scion—the rightful heir to the clan. Destined to rise and become the wakagashira and then to be kumicho.” He pointed slightly. “And here you are.”

“What?”

Sojiro shrugged as if he had said nothing, only gave a sly smile and went further down the hallway to his own room.

Genji stole back inside his suite as if he was an intruder here. Kibo slunk to his upside down bed, glittering green eyes staring out as Genji just peeled off his clothes and crept into his bed. He fell asleep without ceremony, hoping his dreams would be good. As before, a servant came to wake him up for his appointment with his brother.

This time, he ordered a proper breakfast for two brought to his brother’s office. And a bowl of oranges, even though he did not tell that it was for the dragons. The servant nodded and smiled and bowed as he turned away and closed the door.

Genji was cleaned up and dressed in record time. Not even Kibo’s antics delayed him as he got into his suit and was dressed. Grabbing the business cards, the slim computer he used, and the notes he had made, he rushed past little Akane, and went to Hanzo’s office.

“Here I am, Hanzo.” Genji breezed in and plopped in the chair. “I am here to help.”

His older brother grimaced and ran to close the door. “Hush! If Father finds out, there will be no end to his fury.”

“What?!” he hissed.

Hanzo raced back to the desk and began pounding the keyboard. “We must hurry.”

Genji nodded, pulling out the business cards and setting his computer on a hastily cleaned corner of the desk. Dividing up the stacks and matching business cards, they began sorting through the massive data—public and private and everything else—and plugging it into spreadsheets and charts. It actually went tremendously quicker as they burned through the 80 business names.

It seemed that no time passed at all before the servant appeared with breakfast. Hanzo looked stunned at the food brought in—boiled eggs, fruit, pickled vegetables, slices of grilled fish, bowls full of rice. Then a huge bowl of small, sweet cherries, tiny oranges and kiwis. Genji grabbed a pair of chopsticks and began eating. His eyes were wide as Kibo appeared and swallowed one of the eggs. With a hesitant move, he summoned his own two dragons, giving them eggs to swallow and then giving them oranges. 

He sighed as his dragons gobbled the little treats. “They are very pleased.”

“Are you, anija?” Genji whispered.

Hanzo looked at the plates and bowls and nodded. “I am...surprised.”

“We must hurry,” Genji whispered.

They kept working on the reports, drawing on their information and hammering it into charts and forms. Hanzo seemed to be...better as he kept collecting the charts and sorting them. There was practically no way to tell the time as they kept hammering in the information. The only measure was when they moved one of the clipped collections of sheets to the pile of “done”.

Then, there was a knock on the door.

Genji blinked, startled completely out of the give-and-take rhythm they had established. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what he had even heard—only that Kibo rose up and scrambled to join with him again. “What was that?”

Hanzo glowered, a pen in his mouth like a bit as he hammered in the last two numbers to complete the chart. His two dragons lounged there, giving him stately nods as he saved the report. His cheeks turned red as he glanced at his monitor and then his brother and then them again.

“I-i-i-it is nothing,” he stammered. He nodded to his two dragons who only grimaced up at him and rose to his feet. “Give me a moment....”

Genji stared at him as he went out the door, keeping it so close to him that Genji couldn’t see what was happening. Not a minute later, he came back in and went back to work.

“What was that about?” Genji asked.

“Nothing,” Hanzo whispered, ducking his head and glancing away. “But it is lunch time.”

Genji glanced at his computer’s clock. “Damn.”

“Are you going out again?”

“Yeah—all this week.” Genji shrugged. Hanzo said nothing, only nodded and went back to his papers and computer. “Umm...so we start again tomorrow morning?”

Hanzo grunted, already most of his attention focused on the computer again. He glanced up at his brother thoughtfully for a moment and slowly nodded with a small grin. “If you can spare the time tomorrow, then I would appreciate it.”

“I’ll try.”

Genji nodded and ducked out to put on fresh clothes. He had a 2:00 appointment to keep and he was determined to be on time this time. Sojiro was no more concerned than before and took him around to yet more businesses and another restaurant. They lingered over drinks yet again and, as a surprise, Sojiro had him by his side as he met with another wakagashira to arrange a meeting with their kumicho.

On their way back, Genji looked at his father. “Shouldn’t Hanzo have been here? I mean—since he is the wakagashira?”

Sojiro snorted, “He is already well occupied. Why shouldn’t I, as the Shimada kumicho, decide who is to accompany me?”

“He...he is...your heir.”

Sojiro snorted again, waving dismissively. “It is not important for him to be here.”

The rest of the ride home was in silence and Genji smirked as Sojiro’s soft snores filled the car. Why would he say that? Hanzo was his oldest son, the wakagashira and the Dragon of the South. Why had things changed so much? When had it changed? Genji kept getting chills as he kept finding questions that only had ominous answers.

The next day, Hanzo looked worse than death as he glared at Genji in his doorway the next morning. “So this is what you meant when you said that you would speak with him.”

“What?!” Genji gaped. Hanzo’s hands were shaking and his skin was a pale, clammy gray. The purple circles and bags under his eyes were more pronounced, making him seem far more than a mere three years older than him. “I didn’t say anything.”

Hanzo’s glower did not appear convinced. “Now, in addition to the reports, I need to do additional training daily and I will be sent out to collect the protection money twice a week and must be prepared to lead a mission next week.”

Genji felt himself grow pale at the mere thought of of that kind of workload. “That’s insane!”

His older brother’s frown did not let up. “I have also been warned not force you to do my work. That it is ‘unbecoming’ of a proper member of the Shimada to have someone else do my work.”

“That’s fucked up, Hanzo.”

Hanzo shrugged, his cheeks an angry red as the muscles in his cheek ticked. “The kumicho has ordered it.”

Genji withered at the foul look and the fury bleeding off of his brother. “I...I’m sorry. I’ll...back away.” He stepped out of the door. “I’m sorry.”

He went straight to his father. Sojiro was relaxing at his desk as Sakura-san gave him a pot of tea and set the ceramic cup in front of him. Immediately, he waved her away with a nod as she closed the door behind her and smiled at his son. “Sit down, Genji! Sit down and spend some time with me. Will you have a cup?”

“What are you doing to Hanzo?” Genji demanded. “You’re going to kill him unless you give him a break!”

“Hanzo can handle it,” Sojiro snorted dismissively. “He can at least be useful for a while.”

“He’s running on fumes, Father! He has nothing left.”

Sojiro only sipped his tea. “You do not need to worry about him, son. Just keep going as you are.” He gave another of those thin smiles. “So tell me...what are your dreams? You have seen much of the business, the territory. You have met the people that I work with—.”

“This isn’t about them—it’s about Hanzo.”

“He will be out with the men, serving the clan.”

Genji felt like screaming. “Just...give him time.” He puffed out a heavy breath. “Give him at least an extra week to do the reports.”

“Why?”

Genji bit his lip for a moment to try to come up with a reason. “Those reports are for me, right? Give him time to do them properly.”

Sojiro stared at him thoughtfully and his voice became curiously soft. “Why are you so interested in one man when I am giving you an empire?”

“Just...give him time.” Genji racked his brain. “I...uhhh.... I had some extra questions for him to answer.”

Surprisingly, Sojiro only nodded and smiled. “That is good. We will need to feed your dreams for the clan. Whatever needs to be done.” He glanced down at his phone and then nodded again. “What about an extra week?”

“Okay—that’s better.” Genji shuddered, hoping it was enough time. “I suppose that I’ll be training daily, too?”

“Takeda-sensei set training at 4:30–and we are expected at our first appointment at 2:00. We simply cannot abandon the plans.” Sojiro shook his head. “We will be done soon with the appointments and the introductions.”

Genji was about to protest again, but his father’s phone rang and Kibo would not stop whispering in his head. He needed to leave now. Not in a few moments. Not in a minute. Now. He had to leave right this instant.

His father didn’t even seem to notice.


	14. Chapter 14

The last night, Sojiro held a party at the Diamond for several business associates and a number of other yakuza clans. Genji felt like a prize bull as he was introduced to daughter after daughter, cousin after cousin, niece after niece. Everyone was properly deferential to the Shimada son as they drank and ate and soon Genji was surrounded by people.

As Genji stepped aside out of the crowd for a moment to enjoy his drink, his father found him. “Son...you are doing well. I am very pleased with our successes.”

“Of course, Father.”

“Did you see anyone you liked?” Sojiro nodded to a family as they walked past. “Anyone catch your eye?”

Genji choked on his drink. “What?”

“I brought together a few families and associates so that you could meet their families. I thought it wouldn’t hurt.” Sojiro smirked and waggled his finger playfully. “I’m sorry it was in front of your favorite little girl, but the Diamond was the best place because it is considered neutral territory.”

“Who? Hana?” Genji sputtered again. “I..didn’t see her tonight.”

“Ehh...poor girl, to have her heart broken like this.” He let out a chuckle. “Of course, she was not acceptable as more than a playmate. But now you have a selection of many here who would make a good match.”

Genji sighed, narrowly avoiding rolling his eyes. His father would not let up, would he? He smiled at the first girl that glanced his way and toasted her. She blushed and giggled at him before her mother glanced up at her. The mother’s face screwed up in disapproval right until she saw him. Suddenly her face cleared and she smiled as well and nudged the daughter closer.

Sojiro chuckled and seemed to vanish like a bad dream. Genji stepped forward and danced with the young lady. She giggled and pressed a small card into his hand with a short bow. He took one look at the avaricious look in her parents’ eyes and then turned to dance with the next daughter he saw. It was the same thing with her parents, though, and he ended up dancing with more than a half dozen young women. It seemed like a good idea right up until he was suddenly cornered with all of them trying to reclaim his attention with all of their parents staring at him like he was a peculiar fish in a tank.

Finally, he escaped and the social piranhas swam off to crowd around someone else. At the end of the night, he stood and shook hands and bowed until he felt like a rag doll. When they got back to the estate, Sojiro waltzed to his suite before bidding him a social good night. Genji limped through the hallway to his suite, determined to sleep off the alcohol haze that was clouding his head as soon as he could get something for the pounding in his head.

He tiptoed down the hallways, holding his head and was glad for the quiet and the dark. Suddenly, there was a feminine giggle and Genji whirled, sure the someone had followed him home. There was no one there—of course not—but even in the dark security of his home, he could be a target.

He stared at the empty hallway. It was a strange feeling, though—to have been sure that he had heard someone, and see no one. Genji shook his head and sighed. He needed to sleep. He needed to sleep and then get up and eat and not be surrounded. He’d go and talk to Hanzo, tell him that he had an extra week, despite the training and everything. He would even join the training and it would be good to spend the time with his brother.

He was up late the next morning and even then only when a servant knocked to come in to clean. Sitting up, he blinked sleepily and staggered to the bathroom to start the day. Staggering around, he managed to get dressed and presentable before his small phone began ringing.

Hell, was it really after 10? Yes...it was 10:32.

Genji nodded at the people cleaning his suite without really seeing them. They wished him a good morning and hoped he had a good day. The refrain was repeated as he walked down the halls with his laptop and his pad. Perhaps he would send someone out to get him some kind of satchel or briefcase or something, if he was going to be running around like this. 

When he got to the office space, he was surprised to see Sojiro’s door closed and the lights off. Glancing at the guard, he asked, “Where is my father?”

The guard shrugged and grinned wickedly. “Your honored father is...indisposed. He will not be in the office today, but I can get his secretary if you want to leave a message.”

“Oh...uhh...thanks. There’s nothing that won’t wait until tomorrow.”

“He has left a message for you that he would like to see your plans tomorrow over lunch.”

Genji turned red. “That’s great.”

“He said that he would send you a meeting invite, but wanted you to enjoy a day to relax.”

“Okay. Thanks again.” Genji shrugged a little in confusion and turned away. He couldn’t say that he felt a hundred percent, so perhaps the late nights out had become too excessive for his father. Perhaps that was why he was so insistent on taking his younger son out and doing all the introductions—so that he could pull back and retire.

He was slinking back down the hall when he heard a soft sound from behind Hanzo’s closed office door. It sounded strange enough that he wanted to investigate it. Well, at least maybe he could get a chance to tell Hanzo that he had an extra week on the reports....

Without knocking, he burst into the office to see his brother sitting at his desk with Akane sitting across from him in her grey uniform and with her hands full of papers. Hanzo gaped up at him, shock spreading across his face as Genji stared at them.

She recovered first, her face papery white as she shuffled the papers again. She set them on his desk and grabbed a thick book with a bold title of “Business Statistics, 4th ed”. Bowing low, she whispered, “Forgive me, Masters!”

Hanzo nodded shortly at her and said softly, “Akane comes in here—.”

“He—that is, Master Hanzo is...,” she blurted out, ignoring his glower. “I...really should go.”

“Go on, Akane-san,” he grunted. “I will talk with you later.”

Genji gave her a grin that he hoped was friendly. “Akane.... Don’t let me interrupt.”

She bowed over and over, gripping the thick book to her chest with her arms wrapped around it. Her features were completely white and drawn tight as her eyes glistened with tears. She gave Hanzo one more look before stumbling out of the room.

Genji watched her go as she wiped at her eyes furiously. Blankly, he turned back to his brother and asked, “I’m sorry—did I interrupt something important?”

Hanzo glowered at him, his lips thin and strained. “Now, what did you—?!” He closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw clenched and then he started again, “What can I do for you?”

“Hey...uhhh.... What—?” He looked confused for a moment. “Umm.... I’m sorry I interrupted...that.” He scratched the back of his head with a shaky grin. “Ummm...whatever that was. I’m sorry.

“I was hoping we could get some time in together. Go out maybe to the new building so you could see it. Get a drink together and talk.” Genji gave another shaky smile. “I now know all our managers and bosses and we can go out like...like before—.”

“I do not have time.”

“I...did talk to Father and he agreed to give you another week on the reports.” He flushed. “And....”

Hanzo closed his eyes slowly, taking a deep breath. “That was...good of you.”

“Then we can go drink together? Like brothers?”

Hanzo took a desolate look at the piles of papers and books. He reluctantly clicked his mouse and the report saved. For a moment, he had a strange look on his face as he picked up his fountain pen, tapped it on the papers in front of him, looked up at his brother and then down at the pen again as it tapped on the desk.

Hanzo stared at him with an almost mulish expression on his face and waved at the door. Genji closed it behind him. There was a long silence as Hanzo stared at the air between him and the wall.

“I’m going to go with the idea that you’re thinking,” Genji whispered with false sarcasm. “What’s wrong, anija?”

Finally, Hanzo spoke in a soft and solemn tone, “What will it cost me to do what you want?”

“Cost you? I just wanted to have a drink with you!” Genji shook his head slightly. “I thought it would be good for us to get out of here for a while while Father was resting.”

Hanzo sighed, his eyes fluttering closed briefly with a heavy sigh. “Very well.” Standing up, he checked his watch. “I can be gone for an hour—maybe two.” Genji smirked. “But not more than that. Even with the extra week, I will need every hour I can get—especially with training and missions of my own.”

“If that’s all I can get—I’ll take it.”

Genji took Hanzo out to the first restaurant Sojiro had taken him to. It seemed almost shocking to see his older brother’s eyes grow wide as Genji was greeted by name and immediately sat down at the nicest table. The server appeared as if by magic, taking their orders immediately and bringing them glasses of complementary plum wine while they waited. They had barely opened up their menus when they were served a bowl of edamame.

Hanzo blinked several times as they were passed traditional hot towels to wipe their hands. “Just how often have you come here?”

“Just once,” he said softly as he put his towel back on the piece of smooth slate.

“Just once? I would have thought you were a regular.” Hanzo gave a short laugh that didn’t seem to have any humor. “The way that they are treating you, I had worries you had invited the Emperor himself.”

Genji gave a chuckle and a shrug, his cheeks turning a bit pink as the towels were taken away and their water glasses refilled. “I...that is.... Father brought me.”

Hanzo’s eyes grew cool. “Ahh.”

A pretty waitress slid up to Genji’s elbow. “Mister Shimada, what can we do for you?”

Genji glanced at the waitress. “Is the tuna good?”

She nodded with an overly wide and brilliant smile. “Of course, sir. For you—anything!”

“Then we’ll have the Kobe beef, the chef’s sushi sampler with the salmon, omelet and tuna...and the Tokyo Rose roll.” He glanced up at Hanzo and continued, “Plenty of green tea and the ramen special bowl with extra egg.”

“Will that be all, sir?”

“For now.” She nodded eagerly and took their menus. “And bring us a dessert menu in about thirty minutes.”

Hanzo surrendered his menu without comment, nodding stiffly at her as she disappeared again. He took another careful sip of the plum wine and glanced around. “So, to what do I owe the honor of this...outing?”

“Can’t I just want to spend time with my brother?”

“Based on experience, I would have said no.” Genji laughed, even though he was aware that Hanzo only let out a small chuckle. “But...seriously, what is it that you want from me?”

“I just wanted to talk with you,” Genji smiled. “It’s...been too long.”

“Hardly a week,” Hanzo shrugged. “But...it is good to be out a bit.”

“Tired of the office?”

Hanzo’s smile didn’t falter, nor did the pleasant expression on his face. “Something like that.” Hurriedly, he added, “Not that I am not pleased to serve in any way I can.”

“Of course.”

They both took sips of wine and Genji felt his smile stiffen on his lips. “So...I wanted to....” He sighed, leaning slightly over the table and staring into his goblet of wine. “I wanted to apologize—I didn’t know.”

Hanzo stared at his empty plate thoughtfully. After a long moment, he shrugged, “I suppose...I should have expected it. We have to expect to be busy.”

Genji nodded slowly and took a portion of the edamame with its artistic sprinkling of coarse salt and then a bit of soy sauce. It was a relief to finally see his brother pick up some and begin eating. “I guess. There are some big shoes to fill.” The food appeared in front of them as if by magic. “But...maybe we can work together and get it all done.”

Hanzo nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I appreciate...the opportunity—.”

Genji scowled as he began to eat his portion of the sushi and sashimi. In a cutting whisper, he hissed, “Don’t be like this, anija.”

Hanzo froze, with his hand in the air still holding one of the colorful pieces of the exotic Tokyo Rose roll. Slowly, he set the piece down on his plate, staring at his brother. “Like what?”

“Come on—just...let us be brothers for once.” Genji scowled as he stared at the delicately prepared beef. “It’s just.... I know things are strained right now. Really strange and strained. But we’re still brothers. We need to be united.” Hanzo nodded thoughtfully. “I want us to enjoy lunch like brothers. Then I want to show you the new place.”

“Ahh,” Hanzo sighed in resignation. “Work. So that is why.”

The rest of the lunch was in almost unbecoming silence. Hanzo concentrated on the food, staring at it as though he had never known such wealth and such delicacies. Genji sulked, picking at everything and somehow both relieved that they had the time to eat together and annoyed that Hanzo still seemed to have some kind of weird mood or something. He was acting for all the world like was like he wasn’t the wakagashira and the Dragon of the South.

Genji took a hearty gulp of the wine. Maybe Sojiro was right in keeping Hanzo busy at the office after all. If Hanzo wasn’t going to be social—or couldn’t manage to be social—then maybe his father knew best. He swallowed another gulp. Maybe, but why did it feel like that was not what was going on? If that wasn’t enough, then Kibo’s mental chitter would have convinced him that, somehow, he was not drawing the right conclusions.

Thirty minutes after they got their main courses, the waitress reappeared with a glittering smile and a dessert menu. Genji ordered a mochi sampler and the check. They both took bites of sweets as the sweet looking girl ran his platinum card to cover the check.

If Genji had doubts about the outing, though, they vanished once he had Hanzo at the new building. Hanzo had no sooner stepped into it than he could see his older brother almost light up. He dug around in the car and brought out a pad and a pen.

Immediately, Hanzo was able to draw up an approximation of the room and it seemed like the plans just spun up out of nothing. There was a humidor and cigar room with its own bar. Across the raised dance floor was a boutique with changing rooms. A truss system held lights that would make the raised dance floor glow whether it was for a fashion show or a night on the town. Genji watched in amazement as the idea seemed to come to life.

Then, in a flip of the page, there was another, completely different idea. An old fashioned dance club—high end mixology bar, a dance floor, room for live music.... Completely different, but somehow still sexy and classy.

Hanzo spent the best part of an hour, walking around and simply sketching. Occasionally, he would look up, tilt his head that way, and then go back to creating some simple, thorough sketch that told more in a few lines and symbols than most could tell in a paragraph. At the end, he had four ideas—a classy club reminiscent of big band clubs for live music and singers, Genji’s idea of a boutique and fashion club, a pulsing nightclub with space for two DJ booths and singers and a live music stage, and a gentleman’s club with...adult entertainments.

Genji grinned at the last sketch and then looked at his brother. As one, they removed that page and set it aside. Sojiro would likely not appreciate such vulgar entertainments, but, then again, with all the little asides and hints, he might encourage it. He stared at the drawings excitedly as Hanzo simply sank into the seat of the car and closed his eyes and went to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

The trip back to Hanamura was completely silent as Hanzo kept sleeping. Genji drove up the lane slowly as if to stretch out the last few moments of peace. The silence seemed blessed and soothing in a way that he hadn’t known it could be. Then they had come to the top of the driveway and he had to touch Hanzo’s knee.

Hanzo woke up with a jolt, his hands in fists and up as he whipped his eyes around. “W-w-what?”

“We’re home,” Genji muttered sourly.

“Ahh,” he nodded, finally lowering his hands. Looking at the immense carved doors, he nodded again with a thin, stiff frown.

Genji just sat there, looking at the home around him. Just being here in the driveway was like being in poison. His brother was already looking strained and tired and tense—even his skin was suddenly less healthy looking. He took a deep breath and could only smell the green plants and the faint trace of ancient incense and nothing seemed to account for Hanzo’s strange reactions.

Hanzo sighed one more time and slid out of the car. His steps were light, but his back bowed as if he was staggering through mud. Any man would—should—be proud to have it all. And they did, didn’t they? Wealth, position, social recognition, family, power. The Shimadas were practically the walking, talking definition of success—weren’t they?

He walked back to his suite and began looking over all of the designs again. Stretching out on a couch, he studied the pages. Every idea seemed to have benefits, good points. There was nothing like the high-end live music club with its luxe jazz or big band feel. The fashion club would be a good way to attract women who would attract men—not to mention the boutiques in there would pay for the space and the possibilities of fashion shows would generate goodwill and energy. The dance bar with its two DJ booths would be a unique approach to the music and night life. But the adult venue with its strippers and music would be a lot of fun to manage as well—and generate a lot of cash revenue instead of relying on charge cards and paying fees and the catwalks overhead would be a really industrial feel as well as a place to showcase the beautiful people. Or it could be a VIP area—an exclusive place to observe that they could relax and do bottle service.

Which one was the best?

He stared at the double DJ club idea. That was an almost...conservative idea that could make some good money. He laughed at himself—a “conservative” idea to make more money. That was hilariously funny.

He felt a prickle of static as Kibo slithered out of his sleeve. The little dragon curled up into a loose coil on his stomach and stuck his nose under the edge of the drawings. “What are you doing?”

“I’m studying these drawings,” Genji replied lightly.

“Why?”

“To see what kind of club to build.”

“Why?”

“To make money, Kibo.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Genji echoed. He blinked at the green tongue flicking out of the snout and tried to think for a moment. “So that we have more.”

“Why? Is there not enough?”

Genji chuckled, switching drawings. “I...I guess I would say.... I guess we should say no.”

“Why?”

“Well....money is really useful.” He smirked as its nose rocked back and forth as the tongue went around and tasted the air. “We use it to buy things.”

“Why? Is it valuable?”

“Yes!” He puffed out a breath. “It is valuable to get things—including getting eggs for hungry dragons.”

“Oh.” The nose pulled back and he felt the clawed paws dance a bit on his stomach. The nose then stuck around the side. “Is that why you need more?”

“Yes. No. Sort of. We do not—. Dammit, Kibo, just stay still a moment.” Genji put the pages aside. “Now...we get the money and use it to get things.”

“Is there extra? More than you need?”

“Well...yes.”

“Then why do you need more?”

“Well, we save the rest.”

“Save?”

“Yes..in banks. We save it in banks so that we have it when we need it.”

It tilted its head with a curious expression. “In banks? Like in piles?”

“Uhh...sort of.” Genji grinned at it. “The bank keeps all kinds of valuables.”

“In piles.”

“Umm...I guess? Kind of?”

“Is it happy, then?”

“Uhh...what?!”

“Is that what it is to be happy? To have a large pile?” It shook its head. “Is that what it is to be happy?” Genji stared at it. “So you can sit on the pile?”

“Not so that we can sit on it. We don’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Well.... Uhhh.... It’s uncomfortable?”

“Why?”

“Well...it’s not like it’s comfortable. It’s paper and metal coins and stuff.”

“Piles of papers and coins?” Kibo looked at him. “Is it happy to have a pile of money and...what? Ignore them?” It paused and a clawed hand plucked at its whiskers. “Then what is the purpose to gather the pile?”

“Uhh...? I guess so that eventually we can spend it?”

“But is the money a generator of happy? If you put two of money together then will happy spill out?”

“I suppose that it is something like that.” Genji snorted at the dragon. “But...why...?”

“If it will make happy, then you need more and more.”

“More? Yes. We always want to get more.”

Kibo scratched his chin. “It is good to be happy.” Suddenly, it dipped its head and scooted against Genji’s chest, purring like a kitten. “It is good when you are happy.” Then it stopped and nuzzled his chin. “But when will my brother be happy?”

“What makes you think he isn’t?”

Kibo sighed and shook its head. “My brother does not make sounds like you. My brother is alone and my brother’s dragons know he is sad. My brother does not—.”

Suddenly, the dragon glanced up, then vanished and again joined his skin. Genji blinked at the sudden disappearance and sat up. He expected someone to knock or something, but nothing appeared and nothing made a sound. In fact, he was peculiarly alone and silent in his suite for the next hour or more until he was called for dinner.

Sojiro sat at his place of pride at the head of the table and nodded as Genji came in. “Good evening, son.”

“Good evening, Father,” he nodded.

“I must say that I am excited to see what you have thought of,” he smiled impishly.

“I...I guess. Umm.... What do you...ahh?”

“Your plans for that building,” Sojiro smiled as he accepted a scented towel to wipe his hands. “I was told that you went out to do an inspection?”

“When—?” Genji smirked and shook his head as he folded his hand towel and gave it to the servant at his elbow. “You had me followed?”

“Not exactly—but you leaving like that in the middle of the day did cause a few people to talk.”

Genji nodded as a procession came in with platters and bowls. “I did go out. I took Hanzo with me to look at the new building.”

“And?” Sojiro gave a playful scowl. “What did you think?”

“It’s not...quite complete yet.”

“Of course, of course. These things take time.” Sojiro nodded as someone poured him a cup of sake. “But I was so eager that I wanted to get a sneak peek, if you will.”

Genji looked at the elaborate dish in front of him and the food being laid out. “Uhh...well...most of them are Hanzo’s ideas—.”

“Nonsense,” Sojiro snorted. “You have always been my idea fountain, the inspired one.” He waved as he was poured another drink. “You need not give him any undue credit.”

“No—really. They were his ideas.”

“Hardly.” Sojiro picked up his chopsticks. “But tell me anyway. I can’t wait to hear them.”

Genji glanced at the table. “B-b-b-but what about Hanzo? Where is he?”

Sojiro only cackled in a way that made Genji’s blood run chill. “I thought that we could eat together and go over the ideas anyway.” He shrugged. “Hanzo is an adult—he can take care of himself.”

Genji sighed and nodded slowly. “So we had a couple of ideas.”

“Several? This is better than I hoped!” Sojiro smiled and clapped his hands. “Do tell tell me all about them.”

He sighed sadly and began talking about the outing. He kept one idea—the nightclub with the two DJ booths—aside in a mental back pocket. As macho as his father was, the fashion nightclub would surely be rejected outright. It even sounded stupid in his head right now. Then he could trot out the two DJ booth idea and give Hanzo the credit. That would surely break this idiotic idea that he was somehow some kind of inspirational god or whatever.

Instead, Sojiro nodded thoughtfully at the fashion idea and kept asking questions. Genji tried to answer the questions as best he could. What did he know about fashion anyway? He knew what he liked and what looked good on the floor of his latest conquest, but that was about it. Not for the first time, or even the tenth time, he wished his older brother was here. But he was not and Genji had to come up with answers off the top of his head and thank the maid who kept refilling his father’s sake cup.

Dinner drew to a close and he promised to think more and try to finish the ideas and put them into a proposal that could be presented to the elders. Once again, he was far more inebriated than he had intended as he staggered to Hanzo’s office.

Shit—what was he thinking?

Hanzo was going to kill him. This was a hundred times worse than any other possible outcome. Sojiro was ecstatic about the ideas, unwilling to give Hanzo any of the credit, and wanted a report on them before the next meeting of the elders. And, likely he was going to be the unwilling recipient of the credit, no matter what Hanzo did. Walking slowly down the hallway, he tried to figure out what to say. Hanzo was going to kill him, but maybe he could figure out some way to soften the blow.

Then he found himself just outside Hanzo’s office door. The other office doors were closed and he dismissed the guards. They nodded at him deferentially and made their ways out with short bows. Then the hallways was silent and empty as he stood there.

He took a wise moment to pause. Kibo’s voice was slurring in his head, offering him uncertain chirps and a little song that made no sense. He didn’t know what to make of the song or the words or what exactly to say when his brother asked what happened.

He would give Hanzo the credit. No one could stop him from doing that. He could write his name all over the report. It would help show everyone that Hanzo was smart and clever and...and stuff. Sure it would.

And pigs would fly.

“Alert the planes,” Kibo whispered to him.

He let out a drunken giggle and pushed open the door. He could explain this. It would be fine. Somehow, this would all work out. Stepping inside, he took a deep breath and said, “Hanzo—we have to talk about—.”

Hanzo and Akane stared back at him with wide, round eyes and pale faces. Hanzo had tossed his suit coat aside on one of the chairs and stood there with his shirt half unbuttoned and the sapphire tie unknotted and hanging down over his chest. Akane was in his arms in a comfortable and familiar way, her hair trailing down over her shoulders and over his hands on her shoulders. She shifted anxiously and pulled the gray kimono uniform back up to her neck and over her legs.

Genji stared at them in shock. Even Kibo’s soft little song was silent and frozen. He could only watch in shock as she pulled back a step further and gave a little sound. Her cheeks were flaming red as her hands began hurriedly fastening Hanzo’s shirt. Instead, Hanzo only pushed her hands down and murmured softly.

“Hime...don’t.” She looked up at him with a frown. “I will handle this, so do not worry.”

“But...what will he do?” she asked with a whimper.

Hanzo spared her a long, sad look. “It will be fine. We will be....”

Akane shuddered and suddenly whirled on Genji. “Don’t you dare hurt him!”

Genji stumbled back a step and stared at her sudden, wild expression. Her hands were up in claws and she looked wild as she leapt towards him like a madwoman. “Hey—easy there, tiger.”

“Don’t you dare hurt him.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “Don’t you dare.”

“What?! I would never hurt him.”

“That’s all you do!” Her hands became fists and she hit his chest with tears streaming down her cheeks. “That’s all any of you ever do is hurt him. After all he’s done and all the sacrifices that he has made and all any of you do is hurt him. All he wants is to make—.”

“Enough, Akane!” Hanzo snapped. She stopped, her body heaving as she tried to get in a deep breath. Tears kept coming down her rosy cheeks. She pulled her uniform closer to her chest and gave him a quiet nod. “Please...go.”

Genji gave her a smile as she stomped out. “Bye, now.”

Finally, they were alone. Genji took a deep breath and looked at his brother’s face. It was a shock to see how pale and strained his older brother was, how his hands shook. His eyes were burning and dark with deep purple rings around them. Suddenly, he slammed his hands down on the desk and swept the pages aside like so many fall leaves.

“Dammit,” Hanzo snarled, staring down at his desk. “You...you need to knock first, Genji!”

Genji felt the wall at his back as he stared at the older man. His brother looked like he would like to kill him, slowly. “Hey...don’t blame me.” He flushed and found he could not take another step back. “What was she doing in here to begin with?”

Hanzo felt his skin turn red and sweat began to glisten on his forehead. “What do you want?”

“What?” Genji felt a tickle on the back of his neck as if the hair was standing straight up. Whatever he had been expecting, he hadn’t been expecting this sudden capitulation. “How is it she was here—where she shouldn’t be—and I’m the one getting yelled at?”

Hanzo flopped down on the chair like a loosely sewn rag doll. He leaned his elbow on the edge of the desk and dropped his forehead into his fist. “Just...just say what you want.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just tell me what it is that you want so that you ‘forget’ what you saw.” Genji watched as Hanzo’s frame slumped in the chair. “Whatever it is you want.”

Genji felt his face heat up. “Look...umm.... I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to step forward. “I...I just wanted to talk to you. And...you looked like you were...ahh....”

“We were just about finished with your damned reports,” he hissed angrily.

“What?! I thought I told you that you had another week.”

“She.... Hell....” Hanzo growled again into his fist. Finally, he glanced anxiously at the door. “Who saw her leave?”

Genji stepped to the door and peeked out. No one was in the hallways as far as he could see on either side. He looked back at his brother. “I...I dismissed the guards before I came in and it’s really damn late so she probably had a clear way to her quarters.”

“My thanks for small mercies.” He sighed heavily, his head bowing as if in desperate prayer. “I...hope that she—dammit.”

“Why was she here? Father will go bananas if he finds out.”

That brought the other man’s eyes up in a haunted gaze and he repeated tonelessly, “You know that she was here. So what will it take for you to forget that little fact?”

Genji went to sit down and found her book sitting there. “So...she said that...you were tutoring....”

“She sits in here and studies when she is done with her duties.” He shrugged anxiously. “She...would just sit in here quietly.”

“And?” Genji took a deep breath as he remained pinned with a murderous gaze.

Hanzo’s face went suddenly placid and blank, as if he was playing poker. “And...?”

“And I come in and you’re both going at it like teenagers,” he nodded slowly. “So...I would guess the student and the teacher are enjoying a relationship now?”

Hanzo’s face turned red. “She does not need to be harassed. Just let her go, and we will settle this between ourselves.”

Genji let out a low whistle. “Father is going to freak out—.”

He nodded sadly, staring at the thick textbook. “I will never see her again, if that is your price.”

“She works here, anija,” Genji sighed impatiently as his buzz faded. “I’m sure you’re going to see her around.”

His face crumped. “I...I do not have enough hope left to think that.”

The two blue dragons materialized out of mist and landed on the corner of the desk. They coiled together in some kind of twist and looked around the room. They saw the abandoned textbook on the empty chair and turned towards Genji. As one, they hissed with wide open, sharp toothed mouths. Instantly, Kibo appeared, coiling on Genji’s shoulder. He seemed to fluff like a cold bird and all of the green scales seemed to rise up in his fury.

Hanzo let out a small sound and he stroked the long bodies. “It is going to be all right.” They tossed their heads to look at him and then fluffed their scales as much as Kibo’s. One of them uncoiled and drifted to the chair so that its body all but covered it. “It will... we will....”

His voice cracked unbecomingly, his cheeks turning red and his eyes glittering. The long creature looked up at him and wriggled uncertainly. It coiled and uncoiled, its claws spread as wide as possible to grab the corners. As the size it was now, it could barely stretch to hold the diagonal corners. It wiggled again and tried to rise, but the book was obviously too large and clumsy and it flopped down on the seat again with a thump.

Immediately, the second dragon gave Hanzo a thoughtful look and, at his nod, rose to go to its twin. They coiled together and together they managed to get airborne. Genji held his breath as they slowly drug it through the air with their claws digging into the slick cover. It seemed that Hanzo was frozen in shock to the spot, watching it as they drifted closer to him.

Suddenly, the book seemed to slide out of their sharp grip. They writhed in the air in a frantic knot and grappled with the edges. Hanzo leapt out of his seat to catch the book as if he was rescuing a baby from falling. It landed safely in his grasp and Genji chuckled to see Hanzo let out a relieved breath.

Genji looked at Hanzo’s careful handling of the book, the way his elegantly long hands gently cradled the spine and caressed the slight scratches from the dragons’ claws, and let out a short, nervous laugh. “Hey...don’t worry about it. She is fine. The book is fine.” Hanzo’s eyes were again nervous and Genji could see that the pupils were blown fearfully wide. “I’m not going to say anything—you know that, right?”

“What will you demand in the meantime?”

He shrugged and patted Kibo and gave a joking smile as the little dragon vanished. Surely some humor would make this blow over. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure that there will be a time that I need a favor.”

That didn’t help. If anything, Hanzo was suddenly more tense and his knuckles were white as his hands wrapped around the thick book. “I see.”

Genji shrugged in a casual way as his sodden wits tried to dismiss the subject. “So...now that that’s settled—do you know when the elders are meeting?”

Hanzo remained coiled like a caged tiger. “Which meeting? The local gang leaders that meet weekly every Thursday? The regional leaders’ meeting that will happen next week? Or the board meeting of the senior elders that will also happen next week?”

Genji gaped at him. “I-I-I don’t know. I was told to have a report on the ideas we had.”

Hanzo’s head nodded with a silent chuckle, although he was still coiled up in tension. “We?”

“Yes, ‘we’!” Genji flicked an anxious hand through his hair. “I said that—‘we’. Although, yeah, they are mostly your ideas.” He scowled. “I did have the high fashion idea, but—yeah, the rest are yours.”

“And...you want what, exactly?”

“I need to know...what the hell I’m supposed to do?” Hanzo shrugged, his expression darkly humorous. “Come on—I cannot possibly be doing this alone.”

“And is that what you demand in exchange for your silence?”

Genji rolled his eyes. “Look...I told you that I am not going to say anything.” His brother did not look convinced. “I just need to know...when am I supposed to appear with this report that I don’t know what it is supposed to have in it.”

“What was said?”

“Father said that he was glad to have several ideas and that I needed to present a report on them to the elders. That was it.”

Hanzo’s shoulders tensed up again. “To authorize the new investments, you will need to probably meet with the regional leaders and get their approval for the outlay of cash. Then they will want to not only know the details such as the proposed blueprints and any AutoCAD drawings, but at least a few of the vendors that you plan on using for plumbing, carpentry, and furnishings. At the very least, you will need to provide the information about the general contractor and any designers that you intend to use on the building. Then a list of proposed costs and the break-even point when you expect to start seeing a profit—.”

Genji scrambled and failed to find any paper or a pen that worked. “Hold on. This is what I need to know!” He grabbed the first piece of paper he found. “So...the AutoCAD of the building, profit/loss, breakeven—what else?”

Hanzo seemed to be thinking hard. For a moment, it seemed like he was not going to answer, but then he looked down at the book in his hand and nodded. “Vendors you intend to use. A general contractor and any interior designers you intend to use. Plumbers and electricians if you can narrow down what you want to do.”

“Probably a landscaper for the outside, too, huh?”

“If you know what you are going to do for the outside.” Hanzo shrugged. “Also, a staffing company if you plan to use one for your entertainment.”

“Well, fucking hell, anija—we have three ideas between us and that’s a huge writeup to get done by next week.”

Hanzo nodded and shrugged. “The reports for the surrounding businesses are done.”

Genji laughed at the scattered papers. “So I see.”

“You will have soft copies in ten minutes.”

“Are they...?”

Hanzo glanced anxiously away. “They have a lot of the information you need in one way or another. The nearby businesses will give you an idea of the vendors they used, who did a good job.”

Genji nodded slowly. “Okay. So the first thing to do is to read the reports.”

“I would suggest that as a first step.”

Genji nodded again, puffing out a breath. “Okay.”

There was a long, awkward pause where they were both still and silent. The room felt chaotic and messy with the layers of papers everywhere. Hanzo kept staring at him, his hands clenched around the book. Genji sighed as the atmosphere seemed to still be charged with anger. There seemed to be nothing left to do but to leave this place, and Genji stood to leave.

“Just one more thing, Genji.”

He ground to a stop, just staring at the closed door. Hanzo’s voice was low and gravely and grated like razor blades. But there was nothing to do but to ask, “What is it?”

“Nothing is said about her. Or me.”

“B-b-but...you were the one with the really cool ideas. You were the one to give me an outline—.”

“Nothing, Genji. Nothing to hint that you and I have talked. Nothing about me or her.”

He shook his head slowly. “I’m not going to say anything about her, I promise.”

“And me?”

“I’m going to give you credit for your part in this, of course.” He shrugged as if it was simply obvious. “You deserve credit for your inspiration, too.”

“I refuse.”

“You deserve the credit. You deserve recognition for what you do.”

“I refuse.” He laughed bitterly. “I do not need any more attention directed at me.”

“What?!” Genji looked over his shoulder. “What is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means that I do not need any more hostility,” Hanzo spat out softly. “I will gladly serve the empire, but I am not a fool.”

Genji shook in his sudden flush of anger. “What do you—? You know what...fine. I know that you are...a good man. I will gladly follow your advice.” He stared at nothing and could not name why he felt that peculiar tightness in his throat. “But...I want to follow my brother’s advice, not my enemy’s.”

Hanzo’s laughter was broken in a thousand shattered ways as he stared at the book and then the scattered papers. “I was never your enemy, Genji.” Genji nodded slowly. “Not me.”


	16. Chapter 16

Genji went to his suite and, sure enough, there was a series of emails with attachments. He began reading through them, making notes of the various points Hanzo had listed. There was far too much to do just tonight, but he knew that there would be a mine of information—if he could only find it.

He slept late the next day, his notebooks scattered and tangled in his bedsheets. Kibo had gotten a hold of one and was scratching the page with his favorite pen, drawing arcs that became circles and flowers and strange stars.

“Wh-what are you doing, Kibo?”

“Kibo is waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” He yawned and rolled to sit up. “I’m awake.”

“People are outside and they whisper that you should be up.” Kibo turned the notebook upside down and another crazy arc scraped across the page with a noisy sound. “They are not happy that you are still asleep and will make them late.”

“Well, crap,” Genji snapped, picking up his phone. Sure enough, it was highly late. He even had a message from Sojiro. “OK. I’ll get up.”

He threw on fresh clothes and gathered his things to go to his office. He had only just sat down when Sakura-san came in with tea and cookies and an invitation to lunch from his father. When he opened the emails again and began to collect his notes, he heard a tap on the frame of his open door.

Sakura stood there with a professional smile on her face. “Sir...your honorable father has received a call that required his attention and asks that you meet for dinner instead. He suggests meeting at the Lucky Carp.”

“That sounds good.”

“Reservations are at 5:30.”

Genji snorted and looked at his watch. “Well...I just got here—.”

Sakura shook her head slightly. “Your honorable father did say that you needed to have time to recover after working so late last night. He suggested a brief period of...rest before meeting him.”

He scowled a bit in confusion. “But...how—?”

Sakura smirked nervously. “One of the maids reported you had barely slept, sir.” Her cheeks turned red and her smile became stiff. “She was awakened in the night and saw you go to your suite.”

He sighed and nodded. Even here there were eyes and ears everywhere, all trained on him. “I suppose. Yes. Tell Father I will meet him.”

“Of course, sir.”

He cocked his head. “Is Hanzo around?”

Sakura smiled at him like a child in class who knows the answer to the question. “Of course, sir. He is in his office.”

“Is anyone with him?”

“Why—no sir.” Her eyes crinkled and she gave a small smile. “Should there be?”

Genji gave a little smile and shook his head. “I don’t suppose so. I was just curious.” Sakura gave him a little bow and smirked, but paused in the doorway. “Is there something else?”

Her smile became thin and brittle. “Yes, sir. Just one more thing.” She gave another short bow. “With all due respect, sir, what should we do...ahh...?”

“About what?”

“Well...ahhh. Your honorable father did not leave instructions.”

“Instructions?” Genji asked, blinking in confusion. “About what?”

“While you both are absent, sir, what should the household expect? Should we, for example, prepare a meal for the household? Will you expect to have entrees at home after your meeting?”

Genji cocked his head curiously. “Uhh...what do you normally do?”

Sakura gave another short bow. “Normally, we are given instructions by the kumicho when he takes his tea in the morning. However, he has already made arrangements today and is apparently going to be gone for most of the evening.”

“Ahh...and you are—?”

“If there is nothing that the family needs tonight, then we will do the thorough cleaning after lunch and give the staff an early dismissal.” She gave a slightly wider smile. “It does improve morale, sir, to give them the time off.”

“Then that sounds like the right answer.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Genji looked at her beaming face and then nodded with a smile. “Thank you, Sakura-san.”

He settled at his desk, setting an alarm to ensure that he would make the appointment. At least the Lucky Carp was a fairly casual place that put more emphasis on exquisite food rather than pretension. The reports Hanzo compiled were very complete—architects, competition, market segments, and so on—and while they were dry reading, it was all of the information he needed to make a good decision on his concept.

There were already several boutiques on the same street. The nearby neighborhoods were young professionals with moderate disposable income—usually several professionals living together as roommates and then leaving to have families and taking them to suburbs. There were a few clubs and restaurants in the area, but they were chains that could be found all over Japan, rather than any kind of intimate or local clubs with specialty drinks and a unique food program.

The stack of reports on all 80 businesses took up every bit of his time before he had to leave. Instead of driving together, Sojiro met him at the restaurant for a leisurely dinner. He was surprised to find the hours flying past in easy conversation about nothing more important than the latest sumo matches. His father seemed to lean back lazily, admiring the prettier waitresses and content to speak of nothing.

Finally, he was sitting there with a martini glass in his fingers. Sojiro had begun simply sitting back and offering smiles to the waitresses. A few of them were smart enough to smile back and give him some extra attention—even bringing them an extra round of drinks and an extra appetizer. The others only looked at them with a strange expression and seemed to flee and suddenly take an active interest in the other tables and guests.

Genji took the last sip of his martini and turned towards his father, “So, when should I have the report done?”

“What?”

“The report. On the new club.” He pushed aside the empty glass. “Hanzo said that—.”

Sojiro snorted and smiled, “Who cares what he says?”

“The meeting of the elders? On Thursday?”

Sojiro waved carelessly. “The local leaders? They don’t have the authority to approve the outlay for the new club.”

“Then you want me to meet the regional leaders?”

He shook his head shortly with a smile. “I want you to meet the entire board and present your ideas.”

“Father?”

“There is hardly any point to meeting with all of the lower levels if you need the top level of men.” He shrugged and waved his glass at their waitress, who dashed immediately to the bar. “There simply wouldn’t be any point, now would there?”

“I-I-I suppose, but shouldn’t the local leaders or at least the regional leaders be informed first?”

Sojiro shrugged. “As kumicho, it is my prerogative to elevate the concerns that require it. Besides, it will give you a chance to impress them with your wit, your intellect and your strategy. The new club will provide an avenue for investment and profit that they can use to further their own crews and territories, so you will gain their support and their early approval.”

“Approval?”

Sojiro nodded as refills of their drinks were put at their places and waived the waitress away. Then his voice dropped to a low whisper. “My son, their approval is very important for your advancement. They have the power to approve or disapprove of every promotion after your rise to shateigashira.”

Genji blinked nervously. “Ahh....”

“So you see, son, it is to our benefit that you have the best first impression possible. A concrete plan with a high possibility of mutual profits. They will approve of your plan as it gives them yet another legitimate investment and profit stream for whoever wants to invest in it. Then, the profits are divided up based on that investment.” He cackled. “With a good enough concept, they will be fighting to invest and we will need to maintain at least a 51% share in order to maintain majority control.”

Genji nodded thoughtfully. “So we will have the seed money, but not be investing too much of our own capital.”

“Indeed,” he nodded in return. “It is a way to maintain control and mitigate our own risk.”

“Leaving us the ability to invest in yet another business.”

“Of course.” Sojiro gave him a smile. “You will have the best possible impression. So, dress well. Take some time to make sure that you are well rested, mentally prepared, because they will be exacting and thorough in their interrogation and analysis of your proposal.” He gave a wizened smile. “And then Kibo is welcome to make an appearance so that they know you are of my blood and a full Shimada who can succeed me.”

“S-s-succeed you?” Genji gulped down the new martini. “What about Hanzo?”

“They have—unfortunately—already met him.” He shrugged uncomfortably with a bitter smirk. “Some do approve of his eventual succession, but he has not yet presented anything as compelling as new investments and profits.”

Genji swallowed a breath. “Ahh....”

“Now—I wish to...meet that spirited girl over there.” Sojiro gave her a smirk and Genji thought he saw her shudder slightly before performing a wriggle and an artificial grin back. “I trust that you will...understand if we leave it at this.”

Genji looked at her anxious face and then back at his father’s predatory grin. She was likely younger than him—truly young enough to be his daughter. “She is—.”

“Ahh...it is good to have the security that my work will pass into the hands of someone I can trust and believe will carry on.” Sojiro gave him a smile as he loosened his cuffs, rolling the sleeves up a bit. “Finally...I am able to relax and enjoy life as a man of my standing should.”

Genji blinked to realize he was summarily dismissed. “Very well, Father.”

“She is pretty, is she not? All that pretty blonde hair with those golden streaks tied up like that with those little pink ribbons. And then those fine breasts—.”

“Ahh...Father, I will be leaving now,” Genji muttered with a blush.

“Of course.” Sojiro gulped his drink and smiled. “I will be interested to see if she is as limber as she appears.”

Genji bolted out of restaurant with almost unbecoming haste. Of course, there was nowhere that he could particularly go. At least he knew what he was up against and when he was expected to perform. He signaled his driver and climbed into the back of the car and tried desperately not to think of what might be happening next.

Kibo appeared in a dizzy aura of green sparks. “She did not want to have attention.”

“Wha-what?”

Kibo’s scales rippled up and then down from his head to his tail. “She did not want attention.”

“So you read minds?”

Kibo snorted, “That was not necessary.” It floated up and then down again to the seat beside him. “She did not want the attention.”

“My father probably doesn’t want to hear that.”

“My father’s dragon no longer tells him that.” It cocked its head and its tail waved in a floaty way. “My father will not listen except to what he wants to hear.”

Genji giggled at the dragon. “That does sound like him.” The little dragon waved its tail again. “But this is...way too much. I mean—he’s expecting me to come and wow them with a presentation and have all the details down to how to divide up the profits.” He puffed out a breath. “I don’t know how to do it.”

“You can do it.” It slid down to the floor of the car and stuck its nose under the driver’s seat. “And my father has confidence.”

“Come out from under there, Kibo.” He patted the leather seat. “Come on and we can talk.”

“What is this?”

“Kibo—get out from under there.” Genji reached down and pulled the slippery tail. The dragon slid backwards right up until the small wires tangled around its horns pulled tight. “What have you done?”

The dragon twisted and seemed to writhe on the floor. The wires tugged and pulled as it rolled and it went back under the front seat. The tail wriggled back and forth with obvious pleasure. “It is interesting. What do all these do?”

“Get out, Kibo!” He tugged the tail hard again. “Before you wreck something.”

The seat suddenly jerked forward a few inches and Genji’s face turned red at the cursing and language of the driver as he pulled over to the side of the road. There was more cursing as Kibo suddenly vibrated and then vanished and the driver moved his seat back.

“Sorry about that!” Genji snapped. The driver kept cursing, but it at least was quieter now. The car started up again and they went back into the flow of traffic. “Dammit.”

He leapt out of the car as soon as it stopped and went to his office. It was terribly late but he what choice did he have except to work on that damned proposal? The information was gathered at least, and all he had to do was analyze it. That should be easy enough, right? So, obviously it was time to just pull up the word processor, start a new document and get started, right?

He had been staring at the virtual blank page for half an hour when he heard voices outside his door. Standing stiffly, he walked to the door and opened it. “What is it?”

Hanzo stood there with an exasperated expression and a handful of papers. The burly guard that stood at his door loomed there with crossed arms. Both men looked at him with equal frustration.

Hanzo recovered first and gave him a short bow. “I wanted to see you.”

The guard seemed to still be annoyed, which gave Genji a small trill of warning. It was like Hanzo was some unimportant lackey rather than his brother.... “Sir...I had understood you wished to be undisturbed.”

Genji nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, Brother. I was trying to get the report started and—.”

Hanzo only nodded sourly. “Do you have some time now?” He looked at his watch. “Or tomorrow?”

“You’re just who I want to see,” Genji grinned. “I need to put together the proposal and I don’t know where to start.”

Hanzo gave him a stiff, professional smile and nodded. “I will email you a template. Is there anything else?”

“Come on in, Hanzo. Let’s talk.”

They went into the office despite the scowl of the guard. Something told Genji to close the door behind himself. Hanzo perched on one of the seats as Genji flopped down on his huge chair. “So—who wants to go first?”

Hanzo shrugged slightly. “As you wish.”

“So...I’ve got the proposal to put together.”

“By when?”

Genji cocked his head. “I-I-I...don’t know.”

Hanzo’s brows furrowed together. “That is usually the first thing I am told for my tasks. Who are you presenting it to?”

“The senior board. So that should be next week, right?”

His eyes went hugely wide. “What?! The senior board?” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Without the regional leader’s approvals?”

Genji shook his head in return. “Father said that he could elevate concerns if he wanted to.”

Hanzo grimaced with his eyes wide in amazement, “Truly? He...he said that?”

“I guess that’s the way to say ‘I’ll do what I want’?”

“Perhaps.” Hanzo squirmed a bit uncomfortably. “But, I was more concerned that he was gone so much of the morning. Do you know why?”

“No. All I was told was that he was unavailable. I didn’t even know that except that Sakura wanted to know what the staff should do since we were meeting at the Lucky Carp for dinner.” Genji looked at Hanzo’s startled expression and couldn’t figure out what it was for. “I...I told her that after lunch, the staff could go home.”

There was another startled expression and a gasp before Hanzo’s eyes hooded half-shut and he gave a sour grunt. “So that is why.”

“Why what?”

Hanzo cocked his head. “When the kitchen closes early, it means that the staff does not provide any meals or anything for the rest of us... I mean, the employees.”

“What?”

“It is part of the employment conditions here. The staff, such as the cleaning staff and the gardeners, are provided some basic meals if the family is in residence and eating.” Genji nodded slowly as if only now understanding. “Overnight guests, of course, are served any time, but the live-in staff doesn’t have the choice to go to the kitchen and fix themselves meals if nothing else is provided.”

“Oh?” He looked at his brother with a guilty expression. “I didn’t know.”

He nodded with a calculating expression. “It does improve morale to let them leave early occasionally, but it is an inconvenience for those who might be counting on the evening meal.”

“I had no idea,” Genji muttered as his cheeks turned red. “I just thought that it was a good thing to give them some time off.” He thought hard. “What did you do for dinner since you weren’t with Father and I?”

Hanzo only flushed slightly and shrugged as he straightened. “It is of no importance.”

“Fuck—I told you I had no idea.” He sat straight up against the back of his chair. “You’ve been left behind so fucking much, and I had no idea that you might not—.”

“I told you it was not important.” Hanzo looked aside for a moment, his eyes narrowing before he finally managed to drag his gaze back. “For the moment, I am interested only in working together going forward.”

Genji glanced at the door to make sure it was closed before turning back to his brother. “So...what about whatshername? Akane?”

Hanzo sucked in a harsh breath and went pale. “You... You swore you would say nothing.”

“I haven’t.” Genji scowled and gave a harsh snort. “I just wanted to see if she was suffering with you.”

That made Hanzo give a bitter sound. “I do not think anyone would say that I am suffering. And we should... concentrate on... on the report.”

Genji growled and shook his head. “I’m going to add your name to the report. Father has to see that you are just an important—more important—than I am.”

Hanzo snorted, “He has never regarded us as equal.”

“That’s crap. I’m going to add you—give you credit for your work.”

Hanzo went more pale—somehow—and shook his head thoughtfully. “Be careful. It might better if you simply went with his plan.” Genji started to object and he shook his head again. “I do not need your pity.”

“But this is crap.”

“I do not need your pity. I will earn his respect and make him proud of me on my own.” He gave a sarcastic smirk. “Besides, perhaps it is for the best since he has kept you out of the day-to-day business so much.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“I do not need your pity, Genji!”

“Let me try.”

“No!” He stood up and scowled. “It is late and I need to rise early tomorrow, to report on the activities of tonight.” He went to the door and paused. “Leave me out of your report. I will send you the report template before I lock up my office.”

“But, Hanzo—.”

Hanzo had left before Genji could say another word. After a second, he leapt up and went to follow. He had already ducked into his office by the time Genji got to the hall. Genji paused and took a deep breath before knocking.

There was no answer.

He sighed and tried again. Hanzo still didn’t answer and the guards began snickering at them, so he settled for going back to his office and composing an email. Then, he decided that it would be easier to simply set up an appointment. If he could find an empty spot on his brother’s calendar, that is, because it was chocked full of appointments, meetings with businesses and with events. As Genji scrolled through the next few days, it startled him that Hanzo was expected to attend every meeting of the elders, the regional elders, the senior board meetings, doing regular meetings with the bookkeepers who helped compile the financial information. On and on, it was all of the running around a junior member of the clan plus what a regional leader would do—seeing local bookies and managers and pimps, doing protection money runs, collecting various dues, and so many other things. It was a virtual marathon of things to do and it was every day from early morning until late at night.

He finally found a scant 45 minutes two days later and plugged the appointment. How very irritating it was to have to jump through these hoops just to see his brother. He stared at the appointment—the solitary box on his calendar—and then deleted it. What was he doing? Hanzo was right—he needed to just do this and leave his brother out of it and he stomped back to his room to get some sleep.

It started a strange trend though. For all of his good intentions to get up early and get to work on the proposal, he would oversleep. Sojiro would insist on taking him out somewhere and spending hours just talking with him. Sometimes it would be as simple as a bench in the park or playing chess in the gardens, other times it was a lengthy stay at a bar or club or a social event with distant cousins or people the his father knew. At some absurd hour of the early morning, they would either be driven home or—more rarely—he would drive himself home as Sojiro pursued some young woman for...whatever. (And Genji truly didn’t want to think about what his father might be doing with whatever young, pretty girl caught his eye.) Then Genji would have a brief period to add details to the proposal before exhaustion would overtake him and the whole thing would start again.

Predictably, Genji missed all of the meetings the next week. He took the time that Sojiro was attending them and plowed it into his proposal. It was finally coming together and he was able to start putting together costs and figures together. He finally decided that the dueling DJ concept best fit the market surrounding the location, but he dutifully presented the skeletons of the other ideas as well. Of course, every tradesman he consulted decided he was mad to try to propose three different ideas all using the same space—and he agreed with them whenever he was alone with Kibo—but the multiple ideas was as much of a part of his presentation as the actual concept. Almost daily, he was glad he was so good at math and figures.

Hanzo was another matter. Genji rarely saw him at all except to glimpse him walking past the open office door. His calendar remained filled with appointments—little blue boxes of meetings, purple outlined boxes for meetings he was required to travel to, a wide green box every day that was labeled “Training”, and occasionally a red one that was generally late at night and a location in town that simply said “Meeting”. So, his brother remained almost a metronome of going and coming at predictable intervals and in predictable dress.

Finally, the second concept—the girly fashion bar—was done and Genji was leaning back in his chair for a hard earned Scotch when Hanzo knocked on his doorframe. Genji swallowed the mouthful of the smoky alcohol and nodded, “Hey, anija! I haven’t seen you in ages! What’s up?”

Hanzo gave him a respectful and stiff bow and stepped cautiously inside. “I would like to ask a few questions.”

“Sure! Come in and get comfortable.” Again Hanzo perched stiffly on the chair and watched him with dark eyes. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you.” His voice dropped to a painfully low tone and he murmured, “What happened to being at the meeting last week?”

“I wasn’t done and Father said that I should take all the time I needed to make the proposal perfect.” Genji blinked in surprise at the serious look. Hanzo was hunched forward and seemed almost as weary as he was serious. “Why do you ask?”

Hanzo nodded towards the open door and the back if the guard beyond it. Genji took the hint and nodded in agreement. To his surprise, Hanzo went on silent feet and quietly closed it himself. “Genji—how can I help you get the proposal done?”

“B-b-b-but—!”

“I know what you are trying to write and that it is complicated, but the elders are starting to become... concerned.”

“But why?”

Hanzo bowed his head and for a moment it looked like he could fall asleep right there. Then he roused himself and whispered, “I know...I think that—. You have been out a great deal—for hours at a time—and have been drinking and socializing.”

“Yeah,” Genji shrugged. “Father has called me out almost daily.”

“Do you know why?”

“He likes my company?” At Hanzo’s impatient snuff, he rolled his eyes. “Father asks and I go with him. Does there need to be any other reason?”

“Do you find it odd that he takes you out like this, knowing you have important work for the clan to do?”

“I would guess he has his reasons. He usually does.” He shrugged again. “But it’s not like we do anything exotic or strange.”

“Does he go out with anyone else?”

Genji rolled his eyes. “Why? Do you want to go with us?”

Hanzo shook his head. “I will not intrude where I am not wanted.”

“Jealous? Jealous that he likes spending time with me and not with you?” Genji snorted at his brother’s stiff shake of his head. “Look—he feels like he can talk to me. You know how hard it is for him to feel like someone is trustworthy enough to talk to. He just wants to enjoy a bit of life while he can, you know?”

That made Hanzo’s ears perk up. “Is he ill?”

“Him? No—he’s fit as a fiddle as far as I know. But you and I are taking over and he’s starting to enjoy being a man of success and good fortune.” Genji grinned. “I hope that the two of us can follow his example when we are his age and still chase after girls and so on.”

Hanzo did not laugh—or even chuckle—at the irreverent remark. Instead, he frowned harder and narrowed his eyes. “This is.... Genji, this is serious. The elders are not pleased at the constant excuses and delays.”

Genji scowled bitterly. “I’m doing the best I can. Father keeps wanting me to—.”

“That’s not the point.” He sighed. “Even kumichos answer to the senior leadership. You will answer to someone—.”

“To who? You?” He pouted bitterly. “Look, Father has wanted my company. He’s...he’s going to—. He’s got to be feeling old. We’re not young kids anymore.”

Hanzo blinked uncertainly. “So.... Is this a temporary thing?”

“Father just feels old, I’m sure. So he wants to feel young—go out and enjoy himself.” Genji flushed. “I’d guess that he just wants a bit of time before he decides to retire.”

Hanzo nodded slowly. He sighed and glanced at his folded hands. “He would be better served retiring—.”

“How can you say that?!”

“I suppose I should apologize,” he sighed. “But despite that, you need to get your plan before the elders as soon as you can.” He flushed and shrugged. “This is not about anything or anyone except helping you get that done.”

Genji rolled his eyes impatiently. “Fine. Help me out if it makes you happy.”

He scattered the papers across the desk. Hanzo only nodded slowly and began collecting them into piles based on the ideas and concepts that they related to. They put their laptop computers on the desk and began typing and collating the ideas and facts and figures. Genji could practically see the piles shrinking into electric files that made sense.

“Han—anija!—how on earth did you do that?!”

He looked up in shock. “Do what?”

“It’s been about three hours and we have four documents—a master document and three separate plans for three concepts along with spreadsheets, charts and you’re just about done with translating the sketches and architecture drawings into our facts and figures.”

He flushed a dark red and buried his nose back behind his screen. There was an awkward silence for a moment, broken only by the clacking of keys on the keyboard. Genji waited for a moment more, and then shrugged. “It’s...just amazing how easily you got all this together.” Nothing. “It’s amazing how easy you make this work.” Hanzo just stared at him. “Uhh... yeah—we’ll just keep working.”

The next hour and a half was completely quite silently except for the few short words needed. In fact, most of the next words were typed over an instant message program. But the piles kept going down and were translated into electronic files.

Genji gaped at the four neatly organized and cross-referenced files on his computer screen. The papers were in a single pile for the shedder to digest. His desk was actually somewhat clean. He blinked and his brother was closing his computer and unplugging it.

“Thanks, Han—,” he started.

“Do not thank me,” he whispered harshly as he collected his things. “Just get this in front of the elders as quickly as possible.”

“B-b-b-but you.... We didn’t put your name on it.”

Hanzo paused, going stone still as he stared at nothing. “Do not.” He gave a short laugh. “You need the success in their eyes and I do not need to have—. Never mind.”

“Were you about to crack a joke? Like...to laugh?”

Hanzo snorted. “I have been known to do that from time to time.”

“Yeah...but not with me.” Genji flushed. “So when does this go in front of the big wigs?”

“The what? Ah...the elders. There is a meeting in five days.” He shrugged absently as he began wrapping up his charging cord. “I would suggest putting together a short electric presentation and dressing conservatively. And do not put in a lot of sounds and flashing transitions in your presentation.”

“What? Why?”

“Two of the elders get headaches and then refuse to approve anything if there is more than 30 seconds of either. They will also argue more if you have a lot of animations and fanciful transitions. Aiko-san will definitely make a fuss....”

“Why?”

“I believe it is because they might not have the sharp vision of their youth and it strains their eyes.”

“Ahh....” Genji’s eyes gleamed. “So this is a mental battle as well.”

“Of course. Did you think it wasn’t?” He didn’t wait. “I would suggest that you also have several pots of tea available and that you have one of the staff act as barista down the hallway so that you can offer sweets and coffee drinks.”

“Wait—what?”

“Tadao-san and Hiro-san are mad for cappuccinos and Ryu-san is currently experimenting with lattes. Give them the option—even late at night—and they will be more likely to approve.” He shrugged. “But put it down the hallway or Ryu-san and Asahi-san will complain that it is not secure and the meeting will end before you get a chance.”

“Got it.” Genji smirked. “Anything else?”

Hanzo shrugged and shook his head. “I will look forward to seeing you there.”

Genji watched as Hanzo left as quietly as he came. He paged through his notes and put together the presentation for an hour before deciding that enough was enough already. He could definitely finish the presentation in five days, and he could get the plans printed professionally as well. So all that really remained was to relax and to find a barista on the staff.

He locked up his office and nodded towards the guard at his door as he pocketed his keys. He would find his brother and at least buy him a drink somewhere. He could do that much since it would have taken him three days at least to get this much done. He dropped his computer in his suite and put on a fresh shirt and went down the hall to fetch his brother.

The door was almost completely closed and Genji paused as if he had never seen that before. His hand was up at to knock when he heard the low, sweet tones of a female voice.

“You have been working so hard. Come—let me help you relax.”

Hanzo’s voice was deep and dry. “You do not need to do this, Akane-kun.”

“I am off the clock and can do whatever I please with my free time.” There was a soft laugh. “And it would please me to help you relax.” Her voice grew harsh for a moment. “Especially since you worked through lunch and supper again.”

“I was helping Genji.”

She snorted and then her voice evened out. “Come and lay down. I have already made up the futon and—here is the book.”

Genji shifted slightly so that he could see through the crack. Akane had her big statistics textbook and she flipped open the cover. He could just barely see the wax paper package in the middle of the hollowed out pages. She unwrapped it and pulled out a pair of tiny tangerines.

The two blue dragons appeared in a burst of sparks. She giggled and peeled them with shaking hands and tossed them each half of the first fruit. They snapped their jaws and she laughed, “You silly beasts.”

Hanzo sighed and Genji could barely hear rustling around before he saw his brother come to sit beside her on the floor. His shirt was off entirely and he wore a simple hakama as he knelt beside her. “They are silly beasts, but they like your food.”

She gave him a silly face. “And you don’t eat enough of it.” She dug in the thick, hollowed out book and pulled out a rice ball. “Why don’t you eat?”

He took the rice ball with a thoughtful look. “This is not as it should be.” He took a bite of it and looked at her. “This is your meal. Your dinner and the food you—.”

“Hey...just eat.” She gave another segment of tangerine to one of the dragons. “It’s okay for you to rest and eat.”

“But you do not get paid enough to feed me and yourself.” He shrugged and gulped the rest of it. “I know the books, the accounts. You are paid as a...a servant. The only reason that you have this is that you spend next to nothing on yourself and you never leave the estate except to go get dried rice and beans and sometimes dried fruit or ramen.” He stared at his empty palm. “You put them in your room and you have a steamer in your wardrobe and an electric kettle. And yet—you take care of me like this.”

“We don’t have time,” she whispered back. “Hurry and eat.”

“There is only one more rice ball and a plastic cup of fruit. And the tangerines for the dragons.” He let out a bitter snort. “I should be taking care of you.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “I should be dressing you in silk, giving you jewels—I should be taking care of you.”

“I do not see why you are—.”

“I cannot take care of you,” he whispered back as the dragons stomped impatiently. “I have no way to give you money or anything in return. And so you suffer when the kitchens close and you give me what you should have.”

She tossed a segment up in the air, jerking backwards as both dragons leapt into the air and collided. The bright orange piece bounced off of them and they collapsed in a blue knot. “They are hungry tonight.”

“Every time that Genji and...and he are gone, the kitchens close early by his orders.” Hanzo glanced at her. “And you starve to give me this.”

She leaned in close. “But I love you.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Do not. Do not say that you love me.” He ripped the second tangerine apart. “Do not love me.”

“But—.”

“You deserve someone like you,” he frowned. “Someone who can love you. And...I cannot. I am a monster with ice in my veins.”

Her hand touched his chest. “You are warm. You are a good man.”

“I am a monster who kills and who takes and all I do is dishonor those around me.” Hanzo patted one of the dragons’ nose. “All I can do is do my duty and hope that you do not get hurt.” The dragons danced around anxiously. “I do not want you hurt, but you must understand that there is no goodness in me. No warmth. Nothing but duty.”

She stuck out her tongue at him and her hand went down his tattoo. After a silent moment, she whispered, “What if we...if we go?”

“What?!”

“What if we go somewhere? Go to the United States or somewhere in Europe.” She cocked her head. “We can find somewhere quiet and I can get work—.”

“And you would still be taking care of me, Akane-kun. How would that be better?”

She sighed and leaned against him. “It would be. Somewhere that you didn’t have to—.”

“You know what would happen. My f—...my... the kumicho would hunt us down as traitors. Perhaps I could live since I am still his oldest son. But you would die, painfully.”

She did pull apart from him at that, her face frowning and thoughtful. “I thought... maybe... somewhere else we would be able to be together.”

Hanzo gave a laugh that was so bitter that even his dragons recoiled away from him. “That would truly put me beyond the pale. To marry a servant. The family would be so... so humiliated that they would kill us both to restore their honor.”

“So what is left?”

“We go on,” he whispered. “We go on and we know that any moment we could be discovered.” His eyes flashed and looked at her. “If we are—you must tell them that I forced you.”

“But why?”

“Because then they will punish only me.” He shook his head. “They can punish me, but they will not kill me outright.” His face turned to a bitter scowl. “I will not—.” He took in a shuddering breath. “You must tell them that I forced you.”

She nodded slowly and even Genji could see tears glistening in her eyes. “I will not leave you alone.” Her hands went back to touch him lightly. “You cannot ask me to do that.”

He turned slightly away. “You know the rules of this. You must not become pregnant. You must not—ever—fail to do what you are ordered, even if—.” He closed his eyes and his hands bunched into fists so tight that his knuckles faded to white. “—if he or my brother order you to betray me. You must not...must not love me.”

Her lack of shock told Genji that this was not a surprise. She only nodded slowly, her hands clenching in her lap. Hanzo did not move except to look up at her face. Thick tears trickled down her cheeks and she stifled a sob. Instead, she nodded again slowly and gave a small shrug.

“You must not love me,” he whispered. “You know that I have nothing to offer you.”

“I don’t care!” she insisted softly. “I don’t care.”

He gave her a sad smile and his hands slowly came up to her. “You are mad to want me when I cannot give you anything.” He pulled her close to him and it seemed that ecstasy poured over him as she slid right against him. “I cannot even give you a good meal.”

“I don’t care!”

Genji pulled back on silent feet as her hands went to his face and his lips. There was a flash of blue light through the crack in the door and he couldn’t help the flush that went to his cheeks. Spinning on his heel, he went back to his room.

He couldn’t un-see any of that, couldn’t un-hear the words. He didn’t quite know what to make of them yet, but they all hurt. He stumbled through his suite and hit his bed hard. There was...some explanation for all of that. Perhaps they were role-playing. Perhaps they were just chatting or something. Perhaps he didn’t understand something.

But...it couldn’t possibly be that....

No. Surely Sojiro—his father—would not...deprive his oldest son?


	17. Chapter 17

The report was finished quite soon and Genji took the first printout to his father. Sojiro took a cursory look at it—the figures and outlines—and tossed it aside with a growl. Genji waited with a frown, sliding a hand forward and picking up the neatly clipped pile of papers.

“What is that?!” Sojiro spat with a scowl.

“The...report you...wanted?”

Sojiro waved sharply. “That is not what I wanted.” He picked up his cup of green tea. “That is not what I will present to the leadership.”

“What?!” Genji gaped.

“I refuse to have any part of that!” Sojiro took a gulp and the cup clattered as he almost slammed it back down. “That is trash!”

“B-b-b-but—?!” He frowned and scratched his head. “It’s all the ideas and plans. Alternatives and profits and loss statements. It’s everything—.”

“It’s garbage.” He shoved the report again. “That is not what you are capable of.” He waved imperiously as Genji sputtered. “I was looking forward to seeing a master plan of hopes and dreams and a brilliant path forward. I wanted to everyone to see your brilliance, the sheer power of your talent.

“Instead I get an insipid report of facts and figures that anyone could put together. Boring. Pointless and mundane.” He shook his head. “Is this what I’ve built you up for? Is this what you’ve become—another nodding bubble-headed idiot with no vision and no promise?” His face screwed up into a scowl. “Even Hanzo could come up with this.”

Genji backpedaled away, holding the papers to his chest anxiously. There were no words that he could come up with as his father whirled away from him in his chair with another muttered curse. Silently, he rose and bowed and scuttled out of the office. He had nowhere else he could think of to go, so he went just down the hall to his desk and sat down.

He shoved the whole thing in the trash, and his heart ached to hear the fluttering of papers and the thunk of the whole thing hitting the trash can. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t known who else to trust with this, but now it was really a mess, wasn’t it?

He yanked open his computer and stared at the files. What else was he to do? Could he possibly dress it up to his father’s expectations? Maybe a little bit more bling in the presentation—a few sounds and movies. He had a few 3D renders of the proposed designs and that was always more interesting than facts and figures. The architect he had liked best had sent full 3D drawings of the main room—so he could zoom and turn as if he was standing there.

And he had trusted his brother. He had taken a few images from the files, a few still images, because he hadn’t been able to resist adding them to the back of the report. In the appendix.

He had trusted Hanzo.

He gave a call to his architect and requested renders of all the ideas, all the rooms. Of course, there was no problem, getting his blueprints rendered and new files sent. Of course, he could have more brilliant lights. Of course he could have people in the drawings, to show motion and scales. He took a few samples of his favorite music, synchronizing them to the blinking lights in the renders. It would make the renders more lifelike and more energetic as the people shapes moved around.

The report would need some help, too. He could put a lively cover on it—something that would appeal more than a mottled gray with serif font. He could put a watermark on the pages. Each concept had a logo and he could use that as a watermark for the sections. It would make the pages themselves more interesting.

He couldn’t imagine what else he could do. Facts and figures and charts and graphs could only be so dressed up. Saving the updated report, he sighed and pressed his fingertips into his forehead.

He was hungry.

Kibo murmured in his head, a soothing tone of agreement, so Genji stood up and stumbled to the kitchen. The staff was buzzing around and cleaning up, but they smiled as soon as they saw him.

One of them nodded at him and gave him a bigger smile. “Sir! How are you doing?”

“Hungry!” he chuckled.

Everyone murmured and grinned. Immediately, one of them broke away and began taking out pots and pans. “What would you like, sir?”

“Uhh...noodles? With chicken?”

“Of course, sir!”

He watched them buzz around and within minutes, they had finely chopped vegetables and thin strips of chicken sizzling. The senior staff had been with the family since he had been born and they knew that he didn’t like enoki mushrooms and that he preferred fresh cilantro and coin thin slices of fresh hot peppers on top.

They slid him a huge bowl filled with sauced noodles and topped with fresh cilantro leaves and slices of peppers. Someone slid him a pair of carved chopsticks wrapped in a napkin. Of course, the entire staff was bowing and smiling and watching him in subtle glances and in reflections to see his reaction.

He scooped up the bowl and thanked them before going to his suite. For the moment, he cared little for manners or etiquette or appeasing anyone else’s ego with a display of culinary enjoyment. Kibo was rattling around in his head, too, making his temples pulse with pressure.

As soon as he got there, he plopped down on a comfortable chair in front of a small side table. Kibo sparkled into existence on the floor as he went to grab a bottle of water. Sitting down again, he grabbed the chopsticks and jammed them into the bowl.

“I trusted him, Kibo,” he snapped as he prepared to take a bite.

“Trusted?” it answered as it crept closer to the edge of the table.

“I trusted Hanzo. I did as he suggested because I thought he knew better than me. I thought I could trust his opinion and observations.” Genji gulped down a fiery bite without tasting it. “I put the report in the format he suggested and toned down the presentation.”

Kibo snorted bitterly and shook its head. “My brother is not your enemy.”

“What other explanation is there? I have trusted him without question. I did things as he said, followed his recommendations and suggestions without questioning them because I believed him.” He gobbled another bite. “What a fool I was!”

Kibo took another sniff of the noodles and sneezed. It shivered and floated over to a window. Unexpectedly, it clattered its claws against the blinds in a rattle. “My brother is not your enemy. I would know.”

“There is no other explanation.” Genji shoved the bowl a bit and making it clatter. “But what I don’t understand is why.”

“His dragons are not happy.” Kibo raised up on its back paws to stand at its full length. Its serpentine body waved like seaweed in a current as it batted at the slender cord of the blinds. “They know that there is betrayal.”

“Oh, I’ll say that there is betrayal. He set me up to do the most boring presentation to the elders so that I would look like an utter idiot.” He glowered at the dragon. “And don’t you dare tell me you don’t understand!”

“Why?”

“He wanted me to fail.”

“Why?” It stuck out its long forked tongue. “It would hurt you badly if he did.”

Genji snarled and looked back at the food. He wasn’t even sure he was hungry now, but he took another bite anyway. “If I looked bad....” He paused, trying to figure out the angles. “If I failed at the presentation, it would shame Father. It would mean that I wasn’t—fuck.”

Genji kept his head down. Accountants surely didn’t have to deal with this kind of mess. He mechanically ate a few more bites. Why would Hanzo want that? He had seemed so worried earlier. He had worked for hours with him, giving him facts and figures and feeding him data.

Hell...if Hanzo was going to really make him look like an idiot, then even the data might be wrong.

There was a loud clatter and he jumped at the sudden racket. Looking around with his cheeks still full of noodles that he no longer wanted to eat, he turned to the window. 

Kibo looked back at him with the same ageless expression. It was upside down, it’s coils woven in and out of the blinds that cracked and bent as it kicked blindly. The cord was tangled hopelessly in its tail and wrapped around like a ribbon around a maypole.

He swallowed heavily and coughed as a slice of pepper scraped the back of his throat with fire and gravel. Kibo simply hung there, staring at him as he staggered up and came over to examine the mess. His voice was harsh and raspy as he croaked out, “Kibo—what did you do? How did this even happen?”

“Kibo fell.”

Genji grunted sourly and began unraveling the cord. Every time he managed to get a loop unknotted, the dragon’s tail would shiver and whip around and tangle into another slat of the blind. “I don’t even know how you got into this mess.”

“Kibo fell.”

“No...don’t try to back up. Look, Kibo, you’re only making it worse—! No. Hold on. Now, twist your tail the other way. That’s it. No...don’t back up. That’s just going to—. Well...go forward. Otherwise the slats will get stuck in your scales. Or something.” Genji sighed as he tried to wrestle the long body out of the blinds. They cracked and warped and swayed as the unusual weight shifted and twisted. “No. Hold still. Now go forward.”

Kibo slithered down and narrowly missed smashing its nose into the floor by turning in the air and vanishing. Genji stared at the mess of the blinds at the window. Thankfully, this window pointed to a garden and offered a lovely view of it, rather than towards the long driveway. But the slats were now a huge mess and several were broken and the cord looked stripped and frayed.

Genji no sooner let the blinds go than he heard the bowl rattle. Sure enough, Kibo had gone to the table and now had noodles dripping down its face and hanging from its horns. “What now, Kibo?”

“These are worms!”

“No...they are noodles.”

“They are brown and squishy.”

“You’ve seen me eat noodles before, Kibo.” He puffed out a sigh and tossed the chopsticks onto the table. “You know what? Just eat or not, whatever.”

“Kibo does not like worms that are brown and squishy.”

“Why are you being like this?!” he demanded. “Don’t I have enough with my report and my brother and my father to deal with?!”

Kibo opened its mouth and slurped up a noodle that flowed gently from around its horn to a loop around its muzzle and into its mouth. It stared into Genji’s eyes thoughtfully, silently, as though waiting for Genji to realize exactly what it was doing.

Finally, it nodded like a broken-hearted teacher and whispered, “Do not lose hope.”

Then it vanished.

Genji sat there with the bowl of cold noodles and just thought for what felt like hours. It didn’t help that Kibo was completely silent in his head either, so all he had to brood about was his own confusion.

Why would Hanzo betray him?

Surely his brother knew how much his father was rooting for him. Surely he knew that there was a lot riding on this and that he desperately needed to make a stellar first impression. Surely Hanzo—more than anyone—knew how delicate the politics of the situation were.

Besides, what would he have to gain? He was already the wakagashira. He was already second in command and the Shimada Scion and heir to the kumicho. There was literally nothing he could imagine that Hanzo would gain if Genji flopped in his presentation. All that would happen would be that he would go off and do better next time. He could still do stuff and he could go into a smaller role and still make his father proud.

So what would Hanzo gain? Why would he set him up to fail? Hanzo had no allies gunning for his position. He had no wife or heirs—even illegitimate ones—so it was in his interest to keep his little brother around....

Or was that it?

Who was Akane? She was a low level, live in servant who was one of the multitudes that kept the estate clean and tidy and everyone content. She was no one—a faceless body—who apparently glommed onto Hanzo for some reason. She had been told repeatedly that Hanzo would not offer her anything more than she had already. But maybe it was her. Maybe she was pushing Hanzo into making a power play in hopes she would rise with him? Maybe she had her sights set on being the next Madame Shimada?

That could be it. That made sense. Make him look bad so that Hanzo looked greater by comparison and when he came his height of power, she could be there at his side as the continually loyal woman who deserved his trust and respect. A few kids later and she would be well settled with more money than anyone and a powerful man in her wicked thrall. And without Genji, there would be no one to stand against her.

Genji shudder and rummaged around to get a drink from the costly decanter of whiskey he kept stacked in his room. Hell. Fucking, bloody hell. All of these politics and angles and for what? To get a slightly bigger piece of the pie that had to be big enough that everyone could have some. Surely a normal accountant didn’t have to face this kind of idiocy in their offices.

He grunted sourly as he drained the last of his drink and shoved the tumbler away. It wobbled and teetered like a drunken sot before spinning wildly off the table and landing with a thunk. Genji felt a sudden throb in his temples. Even without Kibo’s bitter rumblings in his head, he knew he wasn’t thinking rightly. Akane hadn’t done anything to him and who was he to care if Hanzo was fucking her? She’d never amount to anything and undoubtedly he and Hanzo both would be approached for arranged marriages soon, negating any chance she had—even if she did pop out a kid or two. Probably Sojiro was already setting things up, since he never left anything to chance.

He stirred the jiggled the bowl of now cold worms—noodles—and decided he could at least take the bowl back to the kitchen. Maybe he’d pick up a maid and have a good time before going to sleep. Maybe tomorrow he would take the new report to Sojiro instead and get his input. Surely his father knew more about the elders than his brother.

The next morning, he tossed the maid out of his bed just as she was giggling and whispering ‘Good morning’ to him. Showering and shaving and getting dressed was a slow process as he slogged through his presentation one more time in his head. Finally in a suit that made him feel confident even without actually being confident, he walked through to the dining room to have breakfast with his family.

He knelt down at the low table and nodded as Sakura buzzed around to finish setting the table. Glancing at her, he nodded and said, “Good morning, Sakura-san.”

“Good morning, Master Genji! I hope you slept well?”

“Wonderfully,” he half-lied as she set down a ceramic cup at his place.

“Very good,” she nodded. “We will have breakfast as soon as your honored father joins us.”

“Of course,” he nodded slowly.

“He will be along in a minute or two,” she grinned. “And we have fixed his favorite.”

Genji only nodded slowly as she bustled around and set a plate and cup down at his father’s place. The suit was not suited to long periods at the low table. Thankfully Sojiro walked down the hallway just at that moment, staring at his small phone before sliding his finger along the screen.

Sakura brought in a huge ceramic pot of hot tea and poured them both drinks. She gave them both another solemn greeting and set the pot down on the table. Sojiro only nodded absently as his phone dinged again and then set it down before reaching for his cup with a grimace at his son. “Good morning, Genji-chan.”

“Good morning, Father.” He watched as several servants came in. The first one offered them traditional warm towels to wipe their hands. The next one brought in a platter for his father. The next had a platter for himself. Immediately, he asked, “Do you have some time this morning, Father?”

“Oh?”

Genji flushed lightly and nodded. “I redid the report.” He shrugged absently. “But I thought that you would be able to help me ahhh...sculpt it into a better revision.”

Sojiro’s eyebrows were raised and his cup hovered halfway to his mouth as he gaped. “Th-that?”

“Yes, the report.” Genji gave another shrug as his father finally took a sip and then put the delicate cup down to begin eating. “Like I said, I reworked it and I thought that you would know the elders and what they would want.” He scowled bitterly as he stared down at the breakfast in front of him. “I...apologize for the unsatisfactory previous revision.”

Sojiro waved absently and let out a chuckle. “I suppose that it was my fault, son.” He sighed ruefully. “I should have known that the first time would be a bit more difficult.”

Genji nodded. “I was... mistaken. I apologize.” He shrugged again. “I took some bad advice on how to do the report.” He bowed low over the table. “It was my mistake.”

“Quite all right, son.” Sojiro smiled and leaned a bit over the table. “And I look forward to doing this with you.” He gave a chuckle. “It has been many years since I did my first report. I will tell you that I was very nervous my first time.”

Genji laughed politely—just enough to show proper appreciation for the humor but not so much as to be disrespectful. He was going to say something else, but there was a low sound from the doorway. Both men turned and Hanzo stood there with a neat pile of folders in his hand. His eyes flicked up to them and then back down before bowing in a long and awkward silence.

Sojiro snorted and looked at his younger son. “I apologize, Genji. I had—well, never mind.” He flicked a finger without looking at his eldest son. Hanzo bowed again silently and went to an empty place at the table. “I needed to go to an early appointment and had made arrangements late yesterday.”

“Aww—over breakfast?” Genji gave a teasing lilt and a playful pout. “Here I was looking forward to a good breakfast with my family.”

Sojiro snorted with an equally playful smirk as he wolfed down another few bites. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have made such an early appointment.” He smirked at Genji as he began to eat breakfast. “It cannot be helped this late, but I will be happy to have lunch with you and we can go over the... the plans.” Hanzo took in a breath and glanced up at them both before dropping his gaze again. “I will not be long.”

“Of course,” Genji nodded with a smile. He waited a beat for some response—especially from Hanzo—but no one said anything. “I’d like for us to be together and get this worked out.”

“Of course, of course.” Sojiro nodded and wiped his mouth. “If only I hadn’t made this appointment.” He looked at his phone again. “And, damn the luck, I cannot delegate it. Otherwise, I would send someone else out and spend the time here with you.”

“It’s all right. I understand.”

“Thank you, son. I promise I will make it up to you later.” Sojiro bowed with a smile and rose. Snapping imperiously, he gave Genji another nod. “I will meet you for lunch.”

He gave Genji another smile and swept out. Hanzo said nothing, only gave another bow and followed his father out in thick silence. It gave Genji chills as he stared at the door after them and heard not the slightest sound. There was not even a meaningless greeting as their footsteps faded away.

Sakura came in a half hour later and began cleaning up. She clucked and chirped at the platters left behind as well as the still warm pot of tea. Genji rocked back and forth in confusion as he tried to process what to do next.

“Well, my word! Neither of you ate much, did you? Do you all exist on air? How do you expect to keep going if you don’t eat anything?”

He blinked at her grumbling. “What?”

“You didn’t even drink more than a swallow of tea, either! What are you all? Birds?!”

Genji took a pointed gulp and smiled as she gave him more. “I’ll take the rest and drink it in my office, okay?”

“Whatever you want, sir.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t quite figure out what he was supposed to do until lunchtime, either. After Sakura brought him a fresh pot of tea—it was far too warm and tasted too brisk to be the leftovers—he just stared at his computer screen. If he looked at the presentation again, he was sure he’d scream, but what else was there?

He pulled up the email program instead, but aside from a few bulk spam emails that promised he could lose weight fast and meet a questionable girl named “Bradi” and he could have a beautiful green lawn in time for the cherry blossoms, he had nothing. Like every day, there were no appointments.

Idly, he set a meeting with his father for 11:00 and printed out the proposal on his father’s color printer. His father must have been looking at his phone because he got an immediate acceptance to the invitation. With that, he had a total of one appointment for the day. Unlike Hanzo’s schedule that was filled with multiple boxes in a variety of colors.

He sulked as he went through the pile of information one more time. Maybe there was something he could do differently, with more pizzazz and something more eye catching. A bit more music or a sound or something.

He went to the internet to find a new gif. Something simple and classic with good lines to carry the concept of luxuriously high-end fashion. There was the usual set of results of high-heeled shoes and fur coats and handbags—nothing that gave the outstanding message he was trying to convey.

A colorful image caught his eye as an ad popped up showing a game advertisement. The little dinosaur things—in no way were those “dragons” no matter what the game said—danced around as he began shooting the little bubbles. There was a merry chime as he hit the target and he downloaded the hour long trial. Surely he had plenty of time before his brother came back with his father.

As if by magic, his computer dinged and his father’s message came up. He had profound regrets, but would be late. Genji nodded as accepted the next appointment for that evening, bought the silly game and began playing it. The story was asinine in the extreme as one fluffy dinosaur went around looking for his family.

Then, it found its big brother. The little character shimmied as the locked cage door opened and the other dinosaur crawled out. It was a light green thing with adorable bat wings and pink curled nails and a curious way of curling into a ball and rolling rather than flying or walking.

His character waddled up in its soft way and hugged the other dinosaur. “I found you, big brother! You are safe and sound and will never be lost again. I will make sure you never, ever get lost again.” Genji felt an uncomfortable twist as they hugged again. “You are safe now, big brother, and we can be a family again in our new home.”

Genji swallowed heavily and shrugged slightly. There was nothing wrong. His family was all safe and happy here in his home. Instead, he skipped the rest of the animation and went to the next level. He beat the level and saw his rank go up, which made him feel a bit better. If only life was this simple—easy rules, accomplishments, clear goals, and an international scoreboard to show how well he did. Everyone should have a life this clear and concise....

He had progressed about half-way through the next level when he heard Hanzo come through. As usual, his brother was loaded down with piles of folders and things before vanishing into his office. A prompt ten minutes later, he reappeared with a duffle bag of training gear and a one of the long wooden swords they used for training.

“Hey, Hanzo! Wait a minute!”

Hanzo paused, his face clearly surprised. As Genji scrambled up to meet him, he gave a respectful bow and asked, “How may I help you?”

“Uhh...are you headed for training?”

“Yes.” He nodded slowly and lifted the bag a little. “I have it on my calendar that I go train each day.”

“Is Takeda-sensei still as sour as ever?”

Hanzo went visibly pale and seemed to barely suppress a shudder. “It is fine, Genji. I must not be late, though.”

“Can I come?”

Hanzo took a wary step backwards with a frown. “You have not elected to train with me in some time. I thought you had wearied of it and no longer wished to train.”

“Oh, come on. I’d love to.”

“If you do show up in proper gear, I am sure that we have room and....” He shrugged as his voice faded.

“Okay. Give me ten minutes and I’ll see you there.”

It took him more than twenty since he had to dig out his uniform and safety gear. For some reason, he felt especially anxious that he had to have the safety gear and the full uniform and he felt almost sick until he found the head and hand pads.

Takeda-sensei was sparring with Hanzo when he got there. Both of them were locked in a fierce sword battle. Their skins were both gleaming with sweat and Hanzo’s long black hair stuck to his back like an oily stain while Takeda-sensei’s gleaming white hair was so close cut it spiked up. Their wooden swords cracked against each other and almost seemed ready to split.

There was only a moment more of the hypnotic dance of death before Takeda-sensei noticed him. With an almighty shove, he pushed Hanzo back and then let out a grunt. Hanzo stopped short, his sword still raised. Hanzo froze as he realized his brother was watching him.

“Hey—can anyone play?”

Hanzo sighed and lowered his sword. He bowed to Genji and went back a few steps. Takeda-sensei only snorted and nodded before dipping into a shallow bow. “Genji-san. You finally deign to come back to train with us.”

He bowed in and Takeda-sensei began leading them through katas. Genji felt a bit sick as he was expected to whip through the difficult moves as easily as his brother when he hadn’t warmed up. Still, he thought that he did well enough. And, predictably, he was worn out when finally the old sensei decided that they had enough.

“I suppose that is good enough, Genji-san, Hanzo-san.” The students bowed low, their breath heaving in and out. Takeda only nodded and snorted and put his training gear away. “I look forward to tomorrow’s session, where I expect all of my students to be on time!”

“Yes, sensei!”

The older man gestured at the room. “Now, I expect this room to be cleaned up for tomorrow.”

Both men nodded as the teacher bowed and ambled away. Suddenly, it was like they were teenagers again and they stumbled to get the cloths to wipe up the equipment before putting it away. It felt strangely awkward and the silence was crushing as they scuttled around.

As Hanzo settled the last pads onto their hooks on the wall, Genji muttered, “So...great workout, Anija.” Hanzo only hummed. “It was really good—great—to be working with you again. Working out with you again.” Hanzo turned and nodded, his face carefully blank. “It’s...really great.”

There was still the blank stare and Genji couldn’t quite put his finger on what was causing the tension. So, he tried again, “So I’m tired and thirsty. What about going and getting something to drink? Like we used to?”

Hanzo took a half step back, his eyebrows raising slightly. “I...regret I cannot at this time.” He offered something between a nod and a shallow bow. “I have another appointment.”

Genji nodded, “Yeah... I saw your calendar and you are booked solid for days.” His brother nodded cautiously again. “Is there possibly some time that we could get a drink together?”

“I am very busy.” Genji nodded and felt his shoulders slump. “But...perhaps after the elder’s meeting in a few days.”

“Okay. That sounds like a good plan.”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed and he nodded. “If your presentation goes well, then perhaps—.”

“Hey! No backing out now!”

Hanzo nodded and went to pick up his heavy duffle bag. His entire focus was on unwrapping the strips of cloth from around his hands and stared at the purpling bruises and scrapes that managed to penetrate the layers of protection. He must have been pounding cement or something to get that much damage to his hands.

He tilted his head slightly and spoke over his shoulder. “Was there anything else?”

“Uhh...no, I guess not.” Genji suddenly felt a thrust of hot anger. “Umm...but I really need to talk to you. To get some answers.”

Hanzo nodded slowly, staring at the bag in front of him. “Of course.”

Genji waited a beat, but there was nothing else. Finally, he asked, “Is Father back yet?”

“I do not believe so.” Hanzo shrugged slightly and picked up his bag. Standing at the door, he seemed to be thinking hard. “He said he had another appointment in town after the meeting I attended and sent me home in a taxi.”

“Did he...did he say when he would be back?”

“No.”

“I...I’ll leave him a message...I guess.”

Hanzo did finally turn to face him. “I wish you luck on your presentation.”

Genji nodded, suddenly stone faced. “Thank you.” He nodded slowly and seemed to vanish away into the hallways. “Thank you for all your help.”

Genji was back playing with his computer when there was a knock at his open door. He looked up and his father was smiling at him. He looked back at his computer and hurriedly closed the game. The music played over the speakers and he turned red as he yanked the cord so that they were quiet.

“Oh?” was all Sojiro said.

“Sorry...I-I n-n-needed a break.” Genji felt his whole face go red. “What is it, Father?”

“I thought that we had an agreement to go over the new proposal?” He cocked his head knowingly. “Or is it a bad time?”

“N-n-no. It’s a great time. If you’re not busy.”

“No, Son. I will never be too busy for you.” Sojiro glided into the office and sat down. “So—let’s see what it looks like.”

Genji brought out the new proposal, suddenly glad he had printed the whole thing out again. Immediately, Sojiro’s eyes widened and he flipped rapidly through the pages. Genji let out a relieved breath at his father’s sudden, obvious approval.

Still, he felt compelled to ask, “Is it—?”

“This is more of what I expected of you!” Sojiro crowed happily. He paused at an illustration of logos for the businesses—a four color one one for posters and ads, a grey-scale for newspapers, a stark black and white one for letterhead and card stock and a colorful picture of the proposed uniform. “I am...very impressed.” He nodded at the colorized chart showing profits and losses. “This was well worth waiting for.”

Genji’s head swum for a moment. It was literally the same report he had shown his father before—just with more colorful charts and illustrations. It was all window dressing and now his father was impressed? He nodded suddenly and pulled up the presentation, twisting the screen so that his father could watch it.

Sojiro nodded enthusiastically as he pulled up the 3D renders and the movies of the proposed locations. “Well done, Genji. This illustrates your points perfectly.”

He flushed again. “Well...really—.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to see their faces when you show this!” Sojiro crowed happily, all but clapping his hands like a pleased child. “They will approve this for certain. And then to be able to see the renders as if they were standing there.”

“I...uhh.... used a good firm to do it.” He shrugged a little bashfully. “It was extra to get them all done, but it was worth it.”

“I see.... I will have to use them in the future.” Sojiro watched the screen thoughtfully. “I would guess you have the business cards and information so that we can use them again.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Fantastic.” Genji grinned, flushing as his father kept going over the movies. “And you will be the star of the meeting.

“Now...I want you to concentrate on putting in a good appearance. The meeting is in three days, so I want you to get a new suit and get cleaned up. I will send you the agenda and you will need to be there a bit early to make small talk and the best impression.”

“I have some great suits—.”

“Nonsense. Get a new one. Go out right now so that you can get the fitting done.”

Genji blinked a bit anxiously. “O-o-okay.”

“Go to my tailor in the city. I have an account there and you will be taken care of immediately.” Sojiro smiled widely. “I will look forward to seeing you well dressed and well groomed and showing the elders that you are a force to be reckoned with.”

Before he knew it, he was being driven by his father’s favorite driver and going to the tailor. He picked out a dark gray wool and a pair of shirts in brilliant white and in the palest green. He was propped up on a carpeted stoop in front of angled mirrors in a second suit in a silvery gray. The wiry tailor pulled out a thick chalk and walked around with a mouthful of pins, making marks and pinning up the hems and seams.

“I look like a cow being divided for the freezer,” Genji muttered as he was turned around again. The tailor chuckled and nodded, putting in more pins and handing him a thick piece of cardboard with samples of buttons on it. “Is this really necessary?”

“Of course, sir. The suit will fit you like a glove.” He cackled in a wicked way. “And all the ladies will be all over you, huh?”

Genji chuckled and pointed to a button. “How about this one?”

“Very good, sir.”

“And put this on Shimada Sojiro’s account.”

“Of course, sir.” The tailor’s eyes grew wide for a moment, but then he nodded and went back to making his marks. “And it will be no problem to put a rush on this.”

“Good. How soon can I come in for the final fitting? I need this by 3:30 three days from now.”

“That soon? Then come back tomorrow night. I’ll set your appointment for 7:30.”

“Great.” Genji turned to stare at the inside-out gray suit with all the markings and dotted lines going all over him. “I’ll see you then.”

“Good. Now, if you will take this off, we can use the measurements for your custom suit.”

“Thank goodness that’s over.” The tailor only shrugged and grinned at him and waved at the changing room. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Back in his own clothes, he was impatient to get back to his home. Once there, he went straight back to his office and turned on his computer. His new game was a welcome distraction as he messaged his father that he had returned. Sojiro appeared again with a spirited spring in his step almost immediately and sank into the office chair.

“So, you will have your new suit and presentation ready in plenty of time, eh?”

He nodded, “Yes, Father. In plenty of time.”

Sojiro leaned close over the desk and his voice dropped to a worried whisper. “Good. Now, take my advice and guard them both well. Lock them up and keep them safe.” His eyes narrowed meaningfully. “You do not know who might be tempted to betray you.”

He blinked anxiously. “But... we are in our own home.”

“It does not matter. When things are this important, there are always those who will want to see it fail.” Sojiro gave him a wink and a wise nod. “And it is often when they strike that you find them.” He tapped the computer meaningfully. “This is a very important day for your future. I am counting on you to succeed.”

“Father—you make it sound like lives are on the line.”

“Just don’t let me down. I am counting on you to do this.”

“Of course, Father.”

“Now—let’s get some dinner. Lock up your computer and lock it in your drawer. I will be sure that guards do not let anyone in, so all that remains is to be sure that nothing happens in the meantime.” Sojiro nodded to himself. “I want you to send me a copy as well, as a backup. And sleep in tomorrow so that you’re rested.”

“Sure thing.” The computer dinged softly as the message was sent. Genji locked the computer in his desk drawer as Sojiro checked the windows and then they both were sure that the office door was locked. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Of course, son.” Sojiro smirked. “And let’s go out to this new place I heard of. I feel like celebrating.”


	18. Chapter 18

Genji felt the next days whizz past. His suit fitting went well and his new suits seemed highly fashionable as he picked out some new ties and got a new pair of patent leather shoes. He checked over the presentation each day before locking up his computer again. Hanzo was still booked solid and the only times that he could even see him was during training. Sojiro was in and out of his office and they ate each meal as they went over the presentation point by point.

Finally—when it seemed like it would never come—he was outside the elder’s meeting. He had his presentation queued up and it was plugged in, ready to go. Servants had brought in refreshments—copious teapots and cups, along with decanters of whiskey, sake, and Scotch and matching tumblers along with cookies and small pieces of cakes and small dishes of chocolates. Then, Sojiro had blocked off the huge dining room, posting guards everywhere so that no one could come close to the room.

He was pacing in the hallway when he finally saw Hanzo come up. His older brother looked like he had stepped from a historical textbook in his traditional kimono and a folded fan in his other hand. His long hair was oiled and tied up in a samurai’s top knot with a long, golden fabric tied around it. The only thing that even made him look like a real person was the neat pile of folders in his other hand.

“Good afternoon, Genji-san,” he said evenly. His eyes flicked up and down and he grimaced. “Here. If you would agree to hold these for a moment, then I will help you. Your tie is uneven.”

Genji flushed and took the folders, craning his neck so that his older brother could tug at the green embroidered silk and begin tying it. Efficiently, he wrapped it again and evened it out, resetting the heavy silver tie tack in the middle. Then, he plucked slightly here and there to make the seams precisely straight and crisp.

“There. You are ready.” Hanzo gave him an uncertain nod and took the folders back. “You look...well.”

“I hope so—because I’m really nervous.” Genji gave a short laugh. “It’s nerve wracking to think that everything depends on this meeting.”

Hanzo nodded slowly and opened the door. In a low tone, he gestured inside and followed Genji inside. Stepping inside himself, he began setting the folders at each chair. “I... do not believe this is something... for you to worry about.”

“Yeah—but you could do this in your sleep.” Genji puffed out an anxious breath as he glanced around at the precise placement of everything. “You probably never had an anxiety attack before a meeting.”

Hanzo glanced around the otherwise empty room and then shrugged slightly. “I was very nervous my first time. Perhaps even anxious.”

“That doesn’t really help, Hanzo.” He paced around the table, glancing at the screen that had been set up across from the projector on the long table. “Father is so convinced that this is a life-and-death situation. That my whole future is riding on making this work.”

Hanzo glanced around and nodded again. His face seemed to light up in some new way and he gave a half-grin. “Then you can imagine them all naked.”

“What?!”

“It does work sometimes, to calm the nerves as you are repeatedly questioned.” Hanzo watched as Genji flicked the projector off and on and turned on his laptop. The first slide came up satisfactorily, showing the three logos. “The primary thing is to make yourself feel calm enough to continue without making a mistake or losing your temper. That will only make you lose face with them. So it hardly matters if you picture them naked or in...say, kabuki makeup or fluffy bunny suits.”

Genji chuckled and nodded, finally seeing the humor in his brother’s words. “Thanks, anija.”

Hanzo nodded and smiled. “I will look forward to your presentation. Good luck.”

“So what happens next?”

“We will be in a receiving line to greet the elders as they arrive. When they are seated, Sojiro will come in to sit at the head of the table and we will follow. He will indicate the meeting will begin and we will follow the agenda as dictated. You will do your presentation and they will debate the points. Then you will defend your proposal, using your presentation and your financial information. Then they will vote on whether to invest in your project, and, if so, how much to invest and how much they expect to be paid back.”

“Yikes!” Genji shouted. “That could be impossible.”

Hanzo shrugged. “I suppose. But if you do a good presentation, give them the information that they request, then they are not unreasonable men.” He checked his watch and started to gesture. Suddenly, he stopped short and dropped his arms to his side. “If you would come out now, we can begin the reception.”

“What about the computer?”

“The guards will make sure nothing happens.”

Genji ambled after his brother to the hallway. Sojiro stood there in a black suit with a haori coat and traditional tabi. Hanzo bowed low and murmured a soft greeting. Genji blinked in surprise at the sudden scowl on Sojiro’s face.

He hissed, “It is about time, Hanzo. Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sojiro grunted sourly. “Good.” He turned to his younger son with a sudden smile. “And good afternoon, son.”

“Good afternoon, Father,” he nodded with a bow. “I have taken care of the presentation.”

“Good. Now, we need to greet the elders. Come and stand beside me so that I can introduce you.”

“But isn’t that Hanzo’s place?”

Genji grunted as his father pulled him enthusiastically to a place beside him. Then, the doors opened and it seemed like a sudden flood of people appeared as the elders each came forward with their retinues—usually a lurking bodyguard, perhaps a bookish secretary or assistant, and occasionally a lieutenant. So many names and faces for the ten elders and Genji felt giddy at the almost constant bowing and introductions. It seemed like a switch had flipped in his father, though. Sojiro smiled and nodded and even seemed to laugh and make jokes. 

“Sojiro-san—tell me about this young man at your side,” teased an silver suited elder. “I don’t think I’ve met him before.”

“Asahi-san, let me introduce you to my younger son, Genji.” They exchanged bows. “And course, my older son, Hanzo.”

“Of course, I remember you, Hanzo-san. I trust that you are doing well?”

Hanzo bowed again. “I am honored you remembered me, sir. I am doing well.”

Asahi glanced back to Sojiro. “And you, sir—you look well and are blessed to have two handsome, successful sons.”

“Thank you, sir. I hope that you will approve.”

“I am definitely looking forward to the new proposal and seeing what can be done with the space.” Asahi glanced around and saw a new group coming in. “And here is Yoshi-san. I will see you in a bit.”

“Of course.” 

He turned towards Yoshi and nodded. “Good afternoon, Yoshi-san.”

“Good afternoon, Sojiro-san. It is always a pleasure to visit Hanamura—even if it is for the monthly meeting.”

“A necessary bane of our existence, sir. And how are your lovely daughters?”

“Ahh...growing up so quickly. My youngest is now 10 and is taking her grade finals next month.”

“So soon? The time must be flying—I remember attending the celebration of her birth.”

“My wife still fondly remembers your attendance, sir. And we can only hope that our girls grow up as successful as your two sons.”

He smiled in the picture of paternal pride. “I have only pride for my sons.”

“As you should. As you should.” He bowed towards them younger men. “And I look forward to seeing your successes for the clan.”

Both of them bowed in silence and Sojiro puffed out his chest, “I am tremendously proud of both my sons.”

“As you should be, sir.”

“Thank you...and I imagine we will be starting soon.” Sojiro waved towards the open door. “Everyone will be here soon enough. Please, take a welcome seat.”

Genji glanced at Hanzo and couldn’t help the smile on his face at the sudden change in his brother’s posture. His back was straighter, his eyes sharper and alight with some kind of energy. He seemed suddenly alive with a glow of what appeared to be happiness.

They filed into the room one by one, settling with their retinues as servants brought in extra chairs as usual and lined them up against the wall. The secretaries and accountants all sat down as the bodyguards tried to lurk nearby. Sojiro nodded at his sons and glided in to the head of the table.

“Come, Genji, Hanzo.” He pointed at his right hand chair. “You shall sit here, Genji.” Genji glanced and saw Hanzo’s form suddenly seem about to sink like a balloon with a slow leak as he walked to the left hand seat. In fact, only Sojiro seemed unaware of the slight murmurings and questioning glances rippling through the room. “Good, we can now begin.”

Genji plastered a smirk on his face to hide the sudden weakness in his knees. His father only gave a cool smile to the room as it fell silent and began his opening comments. Everyone opened the folders at their places and began following the printed agenda. First there were opening comments and greetings, then a status update from each leader about their territory. Next was an overview of the books—the profits, income, losses, and expenses from each territory, how they compared to the numbers from this time last year, and the expectations for the next year.

Genji watched the room in flickers and glances. The elders would nod slowly and look at the documentation as Sojiro kept going on through the facts, charts and figures, but they would give each other knowing looks and small nods. The secretaries and assistants and accountants all were taking notes and writing down numbers. Hanzo was silent and still, only turning pages as needed, but otherwise as still as a statue. Sojiro kept absolute control of the meeting and no one dared to speak out of turn as he covered the quarter’s performance.

When the old business was done, the elders were passed sheets of paper with hastily scrawled questions and clarifications. Sojiro only nodded and allowed the questions to be answered, occasionally allowing Hanzo to provide clarification. Genji kept silent, just watching as everyone carefully avoided speaking about his older brother’s sudden shift of position. As the eldest, he should have been at his father’s right hand. He should have been given the first opportunities to speak, to present and take on new challenges. Instead, he was in the lesser position and only speaking for clarification and to correct small points.

There was a small break—the smallest necessary period of time for refreshment and biology—and then it was time for new business. Genji didn’t dare take a sip of anything for fear of missing some important business, and felt as dry as a stale sack of peanuts when he began setting up the presentation on the projector.

Abruptly, the screen went blank and then showed a blue screen filled with inexplicable white type. Genji cursed under his breath as there was a fluttering of soft laughter. Sojiro snorted and gave him a stern look. Genji bit his tongue and felt the harsh red coloring his cheeks as he mashed buttons and moved the mouse. Finally he just turned it off and turned it on again. There was a brief trill as it started up again as well as a brief view of a cute kitten dressed in a dragon Halloween costume—his desktop wallpaper—before he got the presentation open again.

He glanced at his father’s unamused face and then the placid face of his brother. The entire room was watching him in various expressions of sympathy, amusement and impatience. He shuddered and blinked anxiously as he heard Hanzo let out a soft sound. He glanced and saw his brother move slightly, make some slight gesture at the seam of his kimono. He glanced at the elders again and his eyes saw one of them in elaborate kabuki makeup, another sour faced elder in clown makeup, another in a fluffy bunny costume. Suddenly, his breath seemed deeper as he got everything set up again.

The speakers throbbed with a few chords as the presentation started up. Everyone jerked wildly in surprise and turned towards the screen. Genji took a deep breath again, his mind still lingering on Yoshi-san in a pink teddy and making him giggle on the inside, and began going through the first suggestion. Every so often there was a burst of sound or a—hopefully—clever animation and he took those few half-seconds to keep reminding himself that things would be just fine. After all, whenever he looked at his father, he saw a wide smile and encouraging smile.

Hanzo he couldn’t read at all. He had the same inscrutable expression on his face that he had for the whole meeting. He didn’t seem to have any reaction at all—either positive or negative—and unlike every other man there, he didn’t even seem to be giving him the barest minimum of nods of interest.

He was introducing the last concept when he saw not two, but three of the elders scowling and rubbing their temples or pinching the top of their noses. Aiko gave him a sour glance and then sighed and turned back to the screen when Sojiro shot them a short and stern look. Anxiously, he tapped his computer and lowered the volume. It just figured that the last concept was the dueling DJ one with the most flashing and sound effects. Even the 3D render of the place had a thump similar to the bass of a club.

He glanced at his father and the elders and sighed. “Perhaps we should pause for a break?”

“Nonsense,” Sojiro smiled thinly. “This is a very good portion—probably the best—and I do not see why we need to stop just when we are getting excited.”

Genji glanced back at the wide table at the varying impatient and tense faces. They looked a bit bitter, but then nodded at Sojiro and politely looked back at the screen. Genji turned down the sound as much as he dared and kept going. One of them did manage to nod encouragingly as he showed the renders of the space with the two DJ booths with the dance floor between them and the bar in the background. Simulated people went to the bar and sat down, met on the dance floor and danced, went to various points in the club to sit or stand or dance. Dots and lasers flickered across the virtual space.

“This is the proposed space,” Genji began as one of the elders looked down at his hand on the table for an inordinate amount of time. “As you can see, the proposed space will have two booths for double music performers. This will allow a point of difference from the other clubs, but will also allow us to arrange various contests such as dance contests, rap battles, and a more social experience.”

Finally one man spoke up in a thoughtful tone, “That would only increase the entertainment costs without a good income return.”

Genji suddenly wished that he had taken a cup of water at the break. His mouth was so dry now that he almost had to stop. “The extra entertainment costs will be offset by the publicity of doing various competitions. There is nowhere that can offer performers the venue to compete—and this kind of setup can offer space for karaoke, rap or singing in addition to DJs. And, instead of one or two people bringing in their following, we will get double the people simply because we will have additional entertainer every evening.” He gestured at the screen, wracking his brain for more persuasive points. “The two DJs each night will post to their social media networks, bringing their fans with them. In addition, there will be less possibilities of a sudden cancellation causing mayhem because there’s a built-in backup.”

At last the presentation closed and all three logos floated onto the screen. Was it his imagination, or did a few of the elders breathe a sigh of relief? Thankfully, his father was still smiling and nodding. Hanzo still did nothing, but that seemed nothing unusual. Genji was thrilled to turn off the computer at last. He was almost giddy with relief to begin answering questions about such prosaic points as profits and losses and target markets.

“I do not know,” Yoshi said, rubbing his temple with a sour voice and face. “It seems that the fashion club is simply a pandering to females who should be taking care of studies and their families. And anyone can run a strip club—there are a million of those.”

“So was that a vote for the dance club?” Genji asked.

“That’s simply an observation,” he replied. “The most promising idea is the dance club, but I am not sure how much we should count on any revenues that depend on something as ephemeral as social media.” He shrugged. “Is there anything else that might be more substantial?”

“Uhh...substantial?”

Hanzo cleared his throat softly. Genji flushed as all of the elders turned towards him expectantly. “I believe that you will find that the immediate neighborhood is primarily single, ages between 24 and 32 with professional careers. So, the audience that the clubs are targeting are nearby with disposable income.” He gave his brother a glance. “In addition, this is the audience that uses social media the most. They are also most likely to value being virtually rated and posting results across the world.”

The elders murmured and nodded and they passed notes back and forth to their retinues. Genji felt a prickle of sweat as the room seemed to crackle with energy. Sojiro and Hanzo simply sat back in their chairs and observed the flow of conversation. Genji watched as they paged through his report, glancing at the facts and figures and charts. He kept answering questions, referring to the charts and report often. It made him almost giddy when finally they all went silent.

Sojiro finally said, “Are we all in agreement, then?”

He looked at the elders and saw two of them scowling and shaking their heads slightly. When he glanced at his older brother, there seemed to be a bit of a sardonic grin on his face. Damn him. Genji felt another rush of bitterness. Things weren’t going well and didn’t his brother just know it? He had done this a dozen times already, so of course he thought it wasn’t a big deal. Another trickle of sweat went down his back as the matter was put to a vote. They raised their hands for and against and Genji took in a breath. They raised their hands to vote and Genji glanced around to see that most of them were at least grudgingly raising their hands to accept the dance club proposal. He barely noted that two sour faces—Aiko and Yoshi who had been most obvious about rubbing their temples—were against his effort or what was next.

At the end of the meeting, everyone rose and bowed deeply. The Shimadas again lined up to say goodbyes as they filed out. Hanzo was peculiarly silent again as everyone left except for the bare minimum of farewells. Sojiro only offered smiles and nods as Genji shook hands and bowed in return.

They were alone again when Sojiro finally turned to Genji and smiled, shaking his hand. “That was a good meeting, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Genji flushed. “At least it passed.”

“I was sure it would,” his father smiled. “There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.”

Genji let out an anxious smirk and bowed slightly. “I’m glad you—.”

He waved absently. “It was fine. They approved it and you are to be congratulated.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll see you in an hour for dinner.”

“Of course, Father,” he smiled with a bow. “I want to check on a few things and I’ll see you at dinner.”

Genji didn’t wait around, but went down the hallway. He felt a twinge of something that he couldn’t name. Hanzo was obviously right—the sounds and animations had annoyed at least two of the elders. But did he have to grin like that? It felt like salt in a scratch he couldn’t reach. He felt like he should say something, but he really didn’t want to hear “I told you so”. But without Hanzo’s monumental effort and assistance, he wouldn’t have made it this far.

Unfortunately Hanzo seemed to have disappeared. Genji kept walking and walking. He wasn’t in his office and he wasn’t training. There didn’t appear anyone in his suite and he didn’t leave any messages. Genji was about to give up entirely, when he saw a solemn figure walking towards the back of the estate with a bouquet of white carnations.

Sliding out, he followed at a discrete distance as Hanzo walked through the meditation garden and through the bamboo gate towards the shadowy path. The back of the estate was wooded with pine trees and thick rods of bamboo with a solitary path going through it. And at the end of the path was a wide clearing that held only one thing.

The Shimadas maintained a cemetery in the very back of the estate.

The way the stories Sojiro told him went, there was often a death of the dragon when a Shimada died. So to prevent the discovery of their dragons, they would preserve the burial urns back here, where their dragons would not be discovered even in death.

Genji was not trying to hide as he followed, only to not be obvious, but Hanzo didn’t seem to be paying attention either. He was marching down the shadowy path like a man on a mission. He kept going with his hands white-knuckled and tight around the bouquet.

The stones were in varying states—most were very old and their simple epitaph carvings were worn from rain and sun. Hanzo nodded slightly, going to one at the very end of the row. Genji ducked behind the last pine tree to watch as his brother bowed low and laid the flowers in front of the stone. Then he knelt with his head bowed.

“Mother,” he murmured. “It...it is good to see you.”

Hanzo took out a stick of incense and put it in a small cup that held many burned ends of such sticks. “You would have been amazed today. It is almost a surprise that the sun is still shining with such things. Would you...would you believe that he said he was proud of me?

“I couldn’t believe it either. It was almost like he had...had forgiven me. He was even smiling and he said it in front of everyone.” His voice shook so badly it was like listening to a mountain crumble to dust. “I was about to call for assistance because it was so unlike him.”

Genji watched as he bowed again in a hasty, clumsy shift downward. It was not like anything he had ever seen before. Had someone had told him his brother would be so broken, he never would have believed it. He would have laughed hysterically and bought that person a drink for such an outrageous story.

Hanzo finally straightened back up and continued hoarsely. “I know you would want me to be dutiful and respectful. I know you would want me to look out for my brother and to do whatever I could so that he is safe. I know you would tell me to be strong for myself and for my brother. I know that you would want me to protect Genji, and I have done that.

“But Genji is his favorite. He will never turn against his favorite son. Genji will never want, will never have to suffer. He will be happy. He could even become wakagashira if—.”

His voice shattered. “Mother...what if Genji does take my place? If Genji becomes the wakagashira, if he becomes the Shimada Scion, will they both be happy at last? Will I get to have a...a father again if I let this happen? Could I again have a family? Or will I die when they have no further use for me?”

Hanzo wiped his face with a careless hand and nodded as if he was listening to a dear friend’s kind words. “I know. I know you would want me to be strong and dutiful. So what else is there for me?

“So, Akane-san went and got the flowers. She was only a bit younger than me and someone—maybe Sakura-san—told her how much you like carnations. She comes by here to make sure your stone is clean, too, but I see she forgot to empty the cup. No, I won’t make a fuss. Just a reminder and it will be done—she’s good about that.

“She still brings me dinner sometimes. Lunch, too, when they are gone. She is a miserable cook, and someone told me you said to never become involved with someone who cannot cook, but that is because she is stuck with such minimal tools and rations. She fusses over me to eat and to sleep. Ever since Genji found her helping me, she won’t come to my office but she will still meet me with that big book and open it and there will be rice balls and fruit. She always has a treat for my dragons and they quite like her. So, you need not worry that no one is making sure I eat vegetables and drinking water and sleeping—when I can.

“I took your advice. I told her that I could not love her. That I couldn’t even pay for her to have a nice meal because.... Well, you know about that—that I have to pay for everything myself. But she said that she accepted that. She has not yet even suggested anything more. I thought it would be like the television shows—that she would want stability and commitment, but instead, she simply nods and holds me. I even told her—I tried to tell her—to go after Genji because at least he could provide for her.”

His whole body shook and the weary cry seemed to be somehow threaded with the bitter humor of a dying prisoner. Genji could almost taste the despair and the feeling of hopelessness hung heavy in the shadowed trees. His eyes were so blurred that he almost missed seeing his brother’s fists hit the ground and jerk. Hanzo growled and pulled and fistfuls of grass ripped from the earth to fly around in small fibers as his voice howled.

“Mother—tell me that I can love her! Tell me that I am not cursed and that she will not die if I love her. Tell me—please—that I can love her. Even as I am, she comes to me when I call like she is overjoyed to see me. She shares whatever she has with me and sneaks me treats when no one else will even speak to me. I want to love her, but if I do, will she die? Will he come to me and corner me and tell me that she is gone like he did when you left me? Just tell me that I can love her—at least a little—and she will still be safe.”

Genji felt his eyes watering and was glad to be back in the woods, away from anyone who could see him. He wiped his eyes with a restless hand and was glad that no one could see Hanzo either. Even the sun seemed to dim as he cried out wordlessly again.

At last, he shook and righted himself. Hanzo’s voice stumbled into a lighter tone as he heaved and panted. “So, there is nothing much going on otherwise. Sakura-san still rules the servants. She takes everyone else tea and biscuits and reminds them of their appointments. The business is still running as flawlessly as it ever has and the elders are still grumbling about everything. There is a lot of news that does not change—wars and famine and crime. If I could keep up with it all, it might make more sense, but I am still working on the things that I am working on and it seems like there is no end to that.

“I nearly got shot the last time I went out. I was sent to go with the kyodai to collect the northwest quarter’s protection money. Akane-san was worried and stayed up for hours—well...perhaps not for hours, but a long time—before she decided I was well enough to go to sleep. She took the suit jacket and repaired it for me....”

Genji sighed heavily and crept through the woods back to the house as Hanzo began rattling off mundane details. There was nothing he could do.... He slunk back through to the hallways without paying attention right up until he slammed into a smaller form. Automatically he backed up and smiled at the pair of maids, offering them a charming murmur.

They both giggled at him as they bowed. The one on the left bobbed a second time and smiled, “Oh, sorry, sir! We were just going to—.”

“To clean the meeting room,” chuckled the second.

He smirked again, trying to hide his moist eyes. “Don’t let me stop you. I’d hate for lovely ladies to be in trouble because of my clumsiness.”

“Oh, no, sir! Not at all.” They both bowed again. “Your honored father has been telling everyone who would listen about your success today.”

Genji felt his cheeks warm slightly. “It was nothing—really.”

“He told us that it was a smashing success—that the presentation was lively and engaging and that you really impressed everyone.” They both smiled at him and nodded at each other. “He has given instructions for a fancy dinner and everything.”

The second one nodded in agreement. “That’s right. He has ordered a wonderful dinner and Sakura-san has sent been sent out to get the best sake she can get.”

Genji felt his face flame up. “Oh, really?”

“And she said that she would have to go out immediately if she was back in time.” The maid looked up at him and suddenly went a bit pink and put her hand to his mouth as if she was suddenly shy and accidentally telling secrets. “Congratulations, sir.”

“I...I-I’ll be going,” Genji nodded, standing aside slightly. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“Congratulations again, sir!” they giggled as they kept walking. “And good luck!”

He blinked anxiously and kept walking. Then he shook his head slightly—they were likely exaggerating. Sojiro probably hadn’t been nearly that excited and it was always more exciting to make everything into a huge deal like a child will whip soapy water into piles of foam. He sighed as he got into his suite.

Apparently everyone was excited about his supposed success. It really wasn’t that big a deal, but apparently the household staff was even celebrating. There on his desk was a vase of peonies. Ordinarily a man wouldn’t get flowers, but this was one from his mother—a deep black one with a glazed red dragon winding around it—and it was always on his desk when he did something big, so he loved it. He even liked the fragrant white peonies overflowing the top.

Genji stayed in his suite, taking his time to shave again and get cleaned up. Kibo floated away, shaking like a small puppy and sending tears of water flying around as it floated back to the main area. He really didn’t want to wear that suit again, so he opted for a comfortable shirt and sweater of soft grey over a pair of well made slacks—something comfortable without being too formal. He looked at himself in the mirror and missed as Kibo made its way to the vase of peonies. He looked presentable, but if Sojiro had sent Sakura out for high-grade sake, then perhaps he should dress better? Perhaps a kimono to honor the occasion?

He heard a munching sound over his shoulder and then a ceramic thump. Turning, he saw the vase on his desk wobbling with a long green tail waving out the top and two scaly legs frantically kicking. Running forward, his fingertips just grazed the smooth ceramic as it rolled off the edge. The tail whipped in rapid circles like a propeller and the legs went wild as the vase fell.

Genji instinctively lunged and shot out a foot so the vase was cradled on top of the curve of his foot before rolling down to his toes and thudding on the floor. There was a muffled, indignant yelp and the long, scaly tail was bent strangely as the legs still scrambled for purchase among a smear of white petals. 

“Kibo—what is it—?!” He grunted as he knelt over the spinning vase and untangled the tail and dodged the clawed feet. “How do you get into this kind of trouble?”

He touched the side of the vase and for a moment he was sure he heard munching and scrabbling. The ceramic scraped and finally the dragon began backing out of the vase. Then, he stopped and the whole vase shook.

“What is it now?”

“Kibo is stuck.”

“Get out of there.”

“Kibo is stuck.” There was a long pause. “Kibo should not have eaten it all.”

“You ate the peonies?” Genji gasped. “What made you do that?”

There was another long pause of silence. Then Kibo’s voice was small and barely heard, “They were...not for eating?”

Genji yanked hard on the dragon’s tail and it slithered out. Sure enough, there was a bit of woody stem sticking out of the long snout. “They were not for eating. You almost broke the vase!”

Kibo only stared up at him and slurped up the stem like it was a noodle. It stared at the vase in Genji’s hand and then shook its head. “Was it an important vase?”

“Yes!” he hissed. “It was. It was a gift to my mother that gets brought out for special occasions.” He examined it carefully, noting the small scratches on the inside of the narrow neck of the vase. “You might have broken it forever.”

Kibo gave him a peculiar look. “It hurts you that my mother isn’t here.”

Genji took in an angry breath that shook violently between his teeth. “Yes, it hurts!” He shook his head and carefully set the vase back on the desk. “It hurts that she’s not here, that she can’t see me succeed. That she’s not here to see what I’ve done.”

Kibo put a careful paw on his knee. “She knows.” It climbed up to Genji’s lap and put a second paw on his chest. “She lives in you and knows.”

“Yeah—that’s what they all say,” he grumbled. “That she’s somehow here and watching over me.” He shrugged, feeling the claws tangle in the soft sweater. “But I don’t think if she was watching, she’d let half this stuff go.” It twisted its neck and looked thoughtfully. “She would have taken one look at wh-wh-what.... Hell—it doesn’t matter. She’s not here.”

“You hurt that my mother isn’t here.”

“Yeah—it hurts like crazy.” He shrugged again and staggered to his feet, pushing the dragon away. “I...I don’t remember much—nothing really. Just kind of feeling that if she was here, things would make sense and no one would be working themselves into the ground and killing themselves trying to make Sojiro happy.”

“My brother—.”

“Don’t!” Genji growled. “Don’t even say it! Hanzo is my brother, not yours, and his name is important! And you have no idea what I’m going through!” He patted the vase gently. “I-I-I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“You could say goodbye like my brother.”

“That is not saying goodbye—that is just crazy.” He shook his head sadly. “Look—don’t mess with this. Just don’t.”

Kibo shrugged and coiled into a pile. “No touching?”

“Do not ever touch this again!”

Kibo burst into a shower of green sparks and vanished. Genji sighed and looked at the pulled threads on his sweater. “Well, shit. Now I have to change.”

He yanked on a different sweater just as a servant came to knock on his door. Of course, while he was trying to detach and untangle Kibo, the time had whirled away. Sojiro must have upset the entire staff to get the dinner set up in time. The dining room was elaborately set with the best china on the spotless black lacquered table with each pair of the antique ivory chopsticks resting on an ebony dragon holder. The covered bowl of rice was scarlet with a spray of black and gold splatters. The other bowls were white with irregular shapes of matching scarlet and black from where it had been dipped in glaze. A long segmented white oval dish at the top was for sauces had matching splatters of gold glaze. There were a line of multiple cups—for tea, water and sake. A spiky bonsai sat in the middle of the table.

Genji glanced at the table and frowned at the two place settings. Sakura came in with a pair of small white soy sauce pitchers and he scowled at her. “Where is the third setting?”

“The third?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes,” he snapped impatiently. “There are three of us—Sojiro, Hanzo and myself.”

She blinked at him, her mouth moving but with no sound coming out. Her face went pale for a moment and then a ruddy blush went across her cheeks. “Well! I was told it was a dinner for the two of you.”

“No—now set a third place for Hanzo.”

She took one look at his scowl and nodded stiffly. Instead of snapping back at his impudence, she snorted and then whirled to leave. He smirked darkly to hear the small squawks and chirps and shrieks from the nearby kitchen. Whirling, he grabbed the next servant he saw and sent for Hanzo to join the dinner.

Sojiro came in shortly afterwards, scowling bitterly as he looked at the table and his younger son. “I was hoping for a pleasant dinner for the two of us.” He raised an eyebrow as Sakura came in with the dishes for the third place. “To celebrate your success today.”

Genji gave him a short bow. “I could not have done it without Hanzo. So, I wanted him here.”

He snorted, “It is his job to help you. You don’t need to reward him for simply doing his job.”

Genji was about to shout back when Hanzo appeared in the doorway. His face was pale and he was still in the gray kimono but aside from the small drops of water where he had obviously hastily washed his hands, there was no evidence he hadn’t been quietly in his suite the entire time.

Hanzo bowed low towards them. “If this is a bad time?”

Sojiro snorted and waved at Genji. “He invited you to his celebration.” He shrugged absently as if it didn’t bother him one way or another. “So, this is his decision.”

Hanzo’s eyes went wide as his gaze flickered to his younger brother and filled with unspoken questions. Genji gave him a thin smile and gestured to the third place setting. “Please join us, Hanzo.”

The air filled with the thick crackle of tension as Hanzo glanced between them again. He sucked in a soft breath and seemed to go pale. For a moment, his eyes went wide and he shook his head slightly. “Ahhh...perhaps it is a-a-a bad time—.”

“Yes,” Sojiro snarled.

“No,” Genji snapped at the same time. Sojiro glowered at his older son and Hanzo took a few steps backwards. “Hanzo, you...you were invaluable during this process.” Hanzo gave him a nervous nod. “I wanted to celebrate with you.”

Both sons looked at their father. Sojiro’s eyes narrowed to thin slits that made even Genji’s blood run cold for a moment. Then, suddenly, he smiled stiffly in frozen and calculating way that suggested that he would be fine with blood running off his hands and into the streets. Finally, he nodded stiffly.

“If Genji has invited you to celebrate, then who am I to stop him?” He waved gracefully towards the table. “Please come and feast with us to celebrate Genji’s success.” Hanzo’s eyes widened slightly and his face went pale. “Come in—as Genji’s guest.”

Genji growled slightly. “He deserves—.”

Sojiro only nodded and brushed past them both before going to sit down. Genji’s hand went into fists as Hanzo spared him another brief glance and then he went to stand by the place at the table. Genji slunk to his own place, trying to figure out what on earth was going on and what to do about it.

Both sons bowed low to their father and knelt when he nodded in return. Sojiro’s grin was shark-like as a servant came in and he waved. In a few moments, they came out and served the three men. It was like they were Omnics, not looking right or left but only looking directly ahead at attending their duties.

Sojiro’s face went placid as he picked up his chopsticks. The last servant served them each sake and left the two carafes behind. He nodded slowly as the last of them left, sliding the elaborate door closed behind them. The room was oppressively quiet and thick with tension as they stared at each other.

Sojiro waved a bit. “Let’s celebrate.” Hanzo looked at his father with a politely distant expression on his face. “Genji was quite a hit at the meeting. They approved his first proposal.”

Genji felt his cheeks flame as Hanzo twitched nervously. “Uhh...he was there, Father.”

He only smirked harder. “But Hanzo’s first two proposals were rejected, son. Weren’t they?” Hanzo dropped the tiny bite back at his plate. He gave Genji a harsh glance, but then his face went back to the same emotionless expression he had before. “And the third was almost defeated—approved by two votes. As I recall, they were very displeased that you were so unprepared—so unprofessional—when you gave your presentations.”

Genji sputtered, his chopsticks clicking and the bite falling back to his plate unceremoniously. “Uh..uh.... Father, this is....”

“Hardly the time, I know,” Sojiro purred, taking a sip of sake. “When we should be talking about your success.” He shrugged and began eating again. “I have been simply proud of you. You can’t tell a father to not be proud of his son, now can you?”

Everyone was silent for a few minutes. Genji turned a brilliant red as Hanzo simply set down his chopsticks again without more than a bite or two. Sojiro kept eating with a pleasant smile on his face. After a few bites, he looked up at them with a smug smile and said, “Why are you not eating? This is a celebration.”

Genji looked at his brother and fumbled with his chopsticks. “Ahh...let’s not be like this.”

“Like what?” Sojiro asked pleasantly. “Not talk about your accomplishments at your celebration? Don’t be silly—can no one take a joke?”

“Just...let’s talk about something else,” he replied softly.

Sojiro shrugged. “What else is there on this fine evening?” He gulped his sake and his head tilted slightly and he gave a roguish wink. “Perhaps you have some other news to tell us?”

Genji blinked rapidly and took a gulp of his sake. “Uhh...no?”

“Not someone who has caught your eye?”

He shook his head with another embarrassed flush. “No...I’m sorry but....”

“I know you want to keep your options open, but a father can hope, can’t he?” He waved his sake cup at Hanzo without looking at him. Hanzo nodded slightly and filled his father’s cup. “I cannot live forever, you know, and I am very eager to see my grandchildren. The future of of clan must be assured.”

Genji flushed and even Hanzo gave him an curious smirk as Sojiro chuckled at him. Hanzo gave him another refill of sake and Genji didn’t even notice when he drank the entire cup without stopping. “I...I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Nonsense,” Sojiro snorted. “Every young man thinks about that. You wouldn’t be my son if you didn’t.” He shrugged slightly, turning towards his rice. “And there is no doubt that you are my son with the success you just had.”

Genji choked on nothing as Hanzo shuddered again. “Well...it was...a-a-a team effort.” Hanzo looked at him with a faint look of alarm and shook his head slightly. Genji growled and popped a bite into his mouth. “It was a team effort and...a-a-all of us—. That is...all of us worked together.”

Hanzo’s deep exhale irritated Genji far more than it should. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brother finally begin eating, his whole attention focused on tiny bites of rice and seafood. He took a few bites in silence, trying to figure out out to say next.

Thankfully, there seemed to be some kind of unspoken agreement to not say anything in reply. The only sound for a minute or two was the soft taps of chopsticks against the costly ceramics. It seemed that it was a good thing for an uncertain moment or two, giving them a few moments that felt a bit less than cutthroat. Genji reached for his sake cup, only to see that Hanzo did not seem to be drinking at all. With a deep sigh of regret—fuck if he didn’t need a drink—he moved his hand back to his larger tea cup.

Dinner was actually delicious—or would have been if anyone had felt like eating rather than shooting everyone. The seafood was lightly seasoned and the Kobe beef seared perfectly and served with a warm pink center with the chef’s special fried rice. The pickled vegetables were colorful and thinly sliced and delicious in their umami and vinegary taste. There were onigiri in pretty shapes with savory sweet red beans in the middle. There was even sweet shrimp sashimi. Servants knocked at intervals, coming in to give them fresh tea or another carafe of sake since the master was enthusiastic about enjoying it or whatever they needed.

Whether it was because the portions were small because they were hastily divided into three portions instead of two or because the food was the only thing keeping them from throttling each other, dinner went far too quickly. Sojiro seemed to enjoy the meal, smiling and eating as though nothing at all was wrong. Genji ate it without thinking much about it, more to simply be doing something rather than enjoying it. Hanzo ate the least of all, tiny bites more suited to a bird than a muscular man in his prime. It startled Genji but he supposed that if what he heard was true, then his brother might simply be stretching out the feeling of good and plentiful food. It was still fresh in his memory that Hanzo always seemed surprised at ever having plentiful food in front of him. 

Too soon, Sojiro waved at the servants and they came in with warm towels and began picking up the dishes. Genji snagged his plate and wolfed down the last bites. His eyes went wide as he saw that Hanzo’s dishes were more than half-full still. But still his older brother made no complaint as they were taken away, surrendering it without a word and taking the towel to wipe his hands. When he glanced at his father, Sojiro only shrugged and pointed at his own empty plates as they were whisked away.

The servants weren’t stupid—they knew that the tension was so thick that it could be cut with a sword. They stared down silently, not meeting anyone’s eyes and not drawing any more attention to themselves than absolutely necessary as they cleaned up the dinner dishes. There was a soft pause and then a silent procession of servants to bring them small plates of bite sized chocolate mochi sprinkled with golden flakes, squares of exotic dark chocolate, cubes of pound cake with sliced strawberries on top, and tiny poofs of merengue. Then they vanished as quickly as they could.

Genji didn’t miss how his brother’s eyes widened briefly at the plate of exotic desserts. New chopsticks were laid at their places if they needed them, but otherwise, they were left alone again. If he had known this was going to turn into such a circus, he would have never insisted on this. As it was, Hanzo was pale and stiff and looked like he would shatter if he tried to move, even though his attention was riveted to the plate of sweets.

Sojiro had no problem apparently and began nibbling the bites of pound cake. He grinned strangely at Genji. “Is there some problem? Something you would prefer?” His sigh of pleasure was so theatrical it seemed to belong on the stage. “Perhaps you would prefer we dispense with this and go get a drink in town?”

Genji felt the single bite of mochi stick in his throat. It seemed to swell to fill his throat and he hacked dryly. Hanzo stared at him and raised an eyebrow, his hands hidden beneath the edge of the table and his sweets untouched. Grabbing up the water glass, he took a swallow of whatever was in it in the hopes it could dislodge the sudden sugary concrete in his throat. His eyes went to Hanzo’s placid face and then down to his plate.

Sojiro’s voice was a deceptively bland, blank slate. “You do not want to spend time with me?”

He hacked again. “N-n-no. Not at...errgh.... not at all.” He swallowed some more tea. “Just something caught in my throat.”

“Hmmm....”

Genji finally managed to get the bite down, resisting the urge to gasp and choke at the scraped feeling in the back of his throat. “I’m...I’m fine.”

Sojiro swallowed the rest of the sake in his cup and smirked. “Well, then, I see no reason to not continue then.” He clapped loudly—apparently to signal someone, if the shuffling outside was any indication. Hanzo seemed mystified and refilled the cups of sake at his wild gesture, before staring at Genji with a blaze of fury. “I wanted to mark the occasion properly.”

Too late, Genji caught on to his father’s smooth smile and the soft rustle in the hallway. A pair of servants cleared the table and wiped it with a damp cloth. If they were at all offended or upset that their delicately prepared desserts were not touched, they didn’t dare show it. Genji’s eyes went wide as he thought he saw Akane in the hallway, taking the dirty dishes from the servants and trudging to the kitchen with them.

Sakura-san came in with another spotless tray holding a spotless white carafe of sake and three tiny cups. Two kyodai came in, holding two long wooden boxes across their arms as carefully as if they were made from ceramic. The two boxes were put in front of Sojiro and the senior men bowed low and backed out.

Hanzo sucked in a breath, his eyes wide and anxious as he stared at the boxes. Then he went papery pale as he glanced at Genji and then looked at Sojiro. Genji frowned, staring at the boxes as the penny dropped and he realized what it was.

It was too late, though, and Sojiro slid the tops of the boxes open with solemn ceremony. The ancient, heirloom katana and wakazashi laid in their places on the velvet cushions. The long handles were wrapped with eel skin with woven silk to show small diamonds of the eel skin. The tsuba were graceful turns of gold showing the Shimada dragons swirling around the blades just above the peg that secured the tang. The long sheaths gleamed with what must have been centuries of black lacquer and careful polish.

Sojiro held a careful breath and then let it out as if he was meditating at a temple. He bowed slowly, looking at the swords and murmured something that was too soft for the others to hear. Finally, he looked up at Genji and said, “To celebrate your great accomplishment, then I award you the traditional swords of our clan—.”

“Ryu Ichimonji,” Genji breathed. He heard Hanzo’s swift gasp, but it was buried under the moment. “Father....”

Sojiro’s fingers drifted inches above the swords, fluttering slightly as if the blades’ histories were rough paper over them. “These swords were given to our ancestor when he was made daimyo of Hanamura by Oda Nobunga. They have been passed from father to son in honor and reverence for centuries.

“I received them when I succeeded my father as kumicho and he officially retired. He received them from my grandfather—Shimada Yoshi—when my father rescued my grandfather from an ambush and annihilated the rival Minamoto Ronin gumi. And of all the gifts that he gave me, this has been the most solemn, the most profound.

“Come, Genji.” Genji stood up on shaky legs and crept closer to his father. Ever so slowly, the older man slid his fingers deep into the velvet padding and under the handle and the sheath of the katana. Raising it with the ceremony of a monk, he twisted and gently laid the katana down on his son’s shaking hands. “In honor of your great accomplishment—your victory—I give you the swords of my ancestors.”

Genji bowed, trying to hide the tears in his eyes and the sudden dryness of his mouth. “Th-th-thank you, Father.”

“These swords are now yours. No one else is worthy of them. Wear them in honor and with respect for those who have gone before you, and always in recognition of your place in the Shimada clan.”

There were no words and Genji bowed again. Ever so gently, he set the sword back in its place in its box. Together, they set the tops in the small ridges and slid the boxes closed. Genji’s hands shook as he dared to tap the top of the box.

Suddenly Hanzo rose to his feet. With barely a nod to his father or his brother, he stomped out. Genji stared, slack-jawed, at the empty door. Sojiro only shrugged slightly and grinned cattily at his son, and then looked with silent fondness at the boxes.

Genji swallowed heavily again. “I.... Father, I am overwhelmed.” His hands went to just brush the top of the boxes. “But...shouldn’t Hanzo—?”

“Nonsense! He’s just too sensitive.” Sojiro bristled slightly. “This is entirely your celebration. You worked hard to make your proposal a success. And no one could say you didn’t give them alternatives.” He poured a milky white cupful of sake, and nodded when Genji returned the favor. “Let us drink to your success.” They toasted and took tasteful sips. “I will have my sword stand moved to your room and, of course, a small boost to your salary so that you can take care of them properly.” Abruptly, he set down the cup and made a polite yawn. “Now, if you do not mind an old man’s manners, then I will go to bed.” He gave a half smile. “I am far too old for so much excitement.”

Genji blinked in surprise as he stood and bowed—far lower than a father should bow to his younger son—and then glided out of the room. The two kyodai reappeared, bowing low to him and with due ceremony, they picked up the boxes and followed him to his room. There he found the ceremonial sword stand already set up with a pine box sitting on a stack of crisply folded cloths in front of it.

The other men, whether they knew what they carried or not, vanished like nimble shadows. Genji sighed and began the ceremonial cleaning and purifying of the blades before putting them into their places on the stand. The night suddenly felt like a whirlpool as he wobbled between feeling overwhelmed and humble at the immensity of the gift of the swords, joy at the recognition from his father and kumicho, and the sudden sour feeling that this was not how things were supposed to be.

There were two swords... and two sons....

He knelt in front of the stand, staring at the gleaming metal and wood and wishing it could tell him what would stop the vinegary and bitter feeling in his stomach.


	19. Chapter 19

Work began on the club and Sojiro was often with Genji as he arranged for the contractors and workmen to begin construction. Electricians and plumbers tromped through, dragging machines and tools and equipment back and forth. The lights and pipes and wires seemed to drip from the ceiling and along the floor and wherever he happened to step.

He commandeered a small corner and a hasty sort of table made from a wide piece of plywood over two sawhorses and an upside down bucket formed his office while the interior walls were being built. Mirrors were installed and toilets and sinks were brought in, wrapped in plastic, and installed. He finally got the wireless internet connection installed and went through two weeks of negotiation to get the music and sound systems tied into it, along with the numerous cameras and security system.

Once the interior was roughly built up, he found that he was even busier than before as he began hiring and training his employees. For the first time, he was behind the bar rather than leaning on it. It was a novel experience to suddenly be responsible for the alcohol and making it profitable. And his obvious inexperienced moves made the staff laugh, which was better for their team building than anything else he could have done.

Sojiro was there for all the events and inspections, but was also quite content to let Genji take the helm. As such an important man, he was excused from most duties, even if he did take precious hours out of each day to train with Takeda-sensei and Hanzo in the use of the sword, shuriken and thrown weapons, and hand to hand fighting as well as walking in shadows and other silent arts.

As it was, it was six months or more before Genji managed to find a free day to spend at home. Sojiro was off doing something or other and Hanzo was out scurrying through several meetings and inspecting businesses and collecting protection money and paying bribes and whatever else he did. So, he had the estate to himself.

He grabbed the practice sword and slid into his kata. The moves flowed into each other like an effortless dance. Even the battered and worn wooden sword flickered like lightning as he dodge and sliced the imaginary enemies to ribbons. He went faster and then faster still and it seemed like the flickering energies of Kibo became joined to his own ki until they like fused metal.

He danced backwards half a step and let the old sword jab forward in a piercing strike. Suddenly, he felt that peculiar joined ki shoot out along the dulled, wooden blade and in a blinding flash of light, Kibo burst out in an electric shower of green sparkles. Kibo’s paws grabbed the edge of the blade and leapt forward to slam into a punching bag. The poor bag simply shattered and sent powders of stuffing and cracked shards of plastic everywhere. Swirling in a spiral, Kibo flew further out and crashed into the wall, spreading a wide burned area and tiny embers into the air.

Genji shook and dropped the sword as he stared at the accidental destruction. Clumsily, he stumbled to the water bottle in his bag and sprayed down the wall. The black stains on the wall reeked of smoke and fire. On wobbling feet, he ran through the hallways to the other side of the wall and saw the mirror reflection of the swirl in the dojo.

An older maid came in behind him with her carryall of cleaning supplies. Her nose wrinkled and she sniffed the scorched air and stared at the wall. Her horrified eyes went to Genji and she screamed. The carryall hit the floor with a clatter and her voice went shrill and nasal as she kept scolding him.

People came running in, staring at the wall and at her. Several people brought weapons and a rather scrawny junior member brought an electric match and a fire extinguisher. Everyone stared at him and the large burn on the wall.

Sojiro himself came in and glanced at the commotion and the damaged wall. His lips twitched slightly and he gave Genji an amused smile before he turned to the screaming woman. “Yes—a most unfortunate accident. We will get that repaired.” Everyone began murmuring and nodding, sending a rumble of questions and comments. “Everyone—calm down. Kira-san, go get an electrician and have him check the wiring in this room. Shiro-san, let us get in your father in to fix the wall.”

Slowly, the crowd dispersed and left the Shimada men alone. Sojiro came to the wall with a smile and traced a finger on the scorch malls. “So...?”

“Uhhh....” Genji scratched the back of his head anxiously. “Let me explain—.”

“I hope it’s ‘Kibo’.” Genji’s face went red as he laughed. “Good. Good.” He smirked. “That is a good sign. You both are obviously getting on well. And we can get the wall repaired.”

Genji murmured something deliberately indistinct. Sojiro only waved as he left. He wandered the hallways in a daze, trying to figure out what on earth he should do. Finally he went to a bench in the garden, plopping down and staring at the plain wooden practice sword as if it was a magical answer to his unspoken questions.

Finally he muttered softly, “Kibo—what the hell?!”

There was a long pause of silence before the green sparkling dust appeared and collected into Kibo’s long body. The dragon coiled around the sword and looked up at him. “You are angry?!”

“What the hell was that?”

The dragon seemed to shrug. Genji could see it swelling and shrinking and frowned. “Are you...panting?”

“It...is hard!”

“What? Busting through walls? Tell me something else, Captain Obvious!” He flicked a restless hand through his hair. “Look...just... just tell me what that was.”

The dragon coiled tighter around the sword, propping its paws primly on the rounded pommel. Its neck craned cooly and its mane fluttered in the light breeze. “Kibo is all right. You are all right. Is there more?”

“The wall, Kibo.”

“Kibo is sorry.”

Genji sputtered angrily. “Yeah...well, don’t do it again.”

“No more fighting?”

“No more fighting...like that.” He puffed out a breath. “At least, not unless I call you.” He cocked a half smile. “That was still amazing.”

Kibo seemed to snap impatiently. “Do not do this again.”

“What?”

“The wood is hard,” Kibo said simply, as if that explained everything.

“Yeah...well, that’s kind of the point.” He smirked, “It wouldn’t do any good to train with a soft plush sword, would it?”

“No—not like that.” Kibo snapped the air. “It is hard to come through.”

That made even less sense, so he asked, “What would not be hard?”

Kibo nodded sagely. “A real sword.”

That prompted Genji to lope through the estate to his suite and the gleaming sword stand. Kibo flickered in and out of his sight like it was an eel weaving back and forth through thick seaweed. It stopped in front of the swords abruptly as if it hit a sudden wall.

“Yes—that would be easy. That is perfect.”

Genji picked up the katana and looked at the little dragon. “Let’s go.”

They snuck through the estate again and went to the furthest corner of the estate. Kibo perched on his shoulder as it looked at the tall stone walls. “This is...bad.”

Genji looked at the walls and the pristine cherry tree. “Uhh...yeah.” He looked at the sword and the dragon and the garden. “Let’s get out of here.”

Minutes later, he was on a motorcycle with his sword wrapped in leather and strapped to his side like an ancient samurai. As he whipped through the traffic, he heard Kibo whispering in his head. The cars and bikes whipped past in shadows.

“Where are we going?” Kibo whispered as he leaned slightly to curve around a small blue car with a family in it. “Where?”

“Somewhere safe for us to train.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

There was another tricky turn as they slid between two large delivery trucks. In a few minutes, he was leaning the other way to try to get to the exit. Then he heard Kibo again.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

“What about now?”

Genji slowed down slightly. Kibo was sounding more and more like a small child. “Not yet.”

It made a quick trip harder and longer as the dragon kept a running commentary on everything. He dodged the cars and trucks and took an exit and began looking for road signs. Finally, he got to there.

Kibo asked, “What is ‘Abandoned Quarry — No Trespassing’?”

“Where we are going.”

After paying the sleepy security guard a healthy bribe to simply ignore the bottom of the pit for a while, Genji cut off the lights and slowed the bike to a low, growling crawl. The bike bucked and jumped as it rumbled over the narrow paths. Circling the deep hole, he found the darkest pit and parked on the edge.

“Okay—we’re here.”

Genji slid off the bike and unwrapped the sword. There were no lights except for a few distant street lights. The sword glistened and it seemed to sing as he drew it from the sheath. Then he began—slowly—doing the moves and watching for the surge of power.

Nothing.

Pausing with the sword held high, he whispered, “Uhhh...Kibo? Any minute now.”

“Do it like you did before.”

“I was!”

“No—like you did before.”

Genji sighed impatiently and did the moves again, stopping at the same point. Kibo was stubbornly invisible. “What is the problem?!”

“Do it like you did before.”

If his sword hadn’t been a honorable and venerable heirloom sword of huge historic significance, he would have thrown it down impatiently. “Those are the exact moves I was doing. What is the problem, Kibo?”

“It’s not like before.”

“What’s different?”

He heard the dragon’s sound of disgust. “No...not like before.”

“Then what the hell is so different?!”

“You.” Kibo let out another disgusted sound. “It is not enough that you do the moves—you must feel it, too.”

Genji scowled and raised his sword again. “Okay—but this is the last time!”

Kibo purred in his ear. “Good. Now—feel the peace. Feel the spirit of the sword. Feel the...the joy.” Genji giggled as he ducked and blocked and felt the ghost of the playfulness from earlier spark and then flame up in him. “Now...concentrate on your strike. Now...summon your spirit and strike!”

Genji rushed forward and thrust the sword forward with an angry shout that echoed in the rocky pit. The green dragon swirled and shot through the sword like lightning to plow into the rocky wall. Just as quickly, a pile of rocky and dust came tumbling down in a rush of thunder. Genji leapt away, staring at the shifting earth.

He coughed and spat the rocky dust out of his mouth. “Great. So, we can do it.”

Kibo was already back in his head. “It is still hard, but...yes.” There was a soreness and a pain in his body he had never felt before that seemed to echo the dragon’s pains. “It hurts, too.”

Genji sighed, rolling his shoulders. “That’s okay. We’re done.”

“Kibo is not a fighter. Kibo is for healing.”

“But...that’s still amazing!” He scrambled back to the motorcycle and stared at the dust and destruction. He wiped the sword down as best he could and sheathed it, wrapping it in the leather again. The motorcycle revved up and roared and he began slowly climbing out of the canyon.

“Kibo—what—? No...how do you—?”

“It hurts.”

He thought a soothing hum—at least, he hoped it was soothing to the fractious creature lurking in his head. “It’s okay. We’ll go home now.” He waved at the guard sloppily. “And we won’t do that often.”

“Need to rest. Need to rest every time.”

“Okay, Kibo. We’ll rest every time.” He pulled onto the highway again. “But you can’t just burst out.” He dodged a small vehicle with a timid, white haired lady at the wheel. “How about a code word?”

“Code word? What is ‘code word’?”

“It is a special phrase that will tell you I need you.” A teenager cut in front of him and he cursed. “How about when you hear...uh...?”

Another car whizzed past and a heavily made up and pierced teenager shouted at him from the open window, “Taste my exhaust, punk!”

Genji growled and slowed down, cursing as the motorcycle skidded and slid on the road. “I’d like to give him something to taste.”

“Does he taste good?” Kibo asked mentally.

“Nah...just an expression. But a kid like that will definitely taste steel if he doesn’t learn some manners.”

“Steel?”

“Like my sword.” He grinned and curled around a car. “That can be my code. ‘Taste my dragon blade’.”

It made a rude noise in his head. “That sounds stupid.”

“Yeah—but I won’t say it accidentally either.” The motorcycle rumbled as he accelerated. “We’ll work on it and see if we can agree later.”

The doubt dripping off the the inner voice. “Okay.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Genji muttered, more to himself than anyone else.


	20. Chapter 20

Genji almost didn’t realize how much time he had been spending on getting the club ready when he looked up at the small notice on his computer screen reminding him that Hanzo’s birthday was in a few days. There wasn’t time for an elaborate gesture, but he thought maybe he should do something.

Sojiro only shrugged and shook his head when he mentioned it at lunch. “Nonsense. You have more important things to do.”

Genji looked at the whiskey cocktail and the small plates on the table between them. Today, they had gone to an American style bistro and had sampled meatballs with mushroom gravy (delicious), laughable imitations of pot stickers (bad), mysterious things called a ‘po-boy’ sliders and barbecued mushrooms (even Kibo asked what the hell they were). As a small concession, it also offered sushi and sashimi and daily specials of various kinds of teriyaki and fried rice—today was teriyaki chicken and vegetable fried rice with ginger sauce.

Sojiro took a sip of his spiked green tea. “I know that you are working hard on the club, son. And the launch will be fantastic.” He patted the newspaper beside his plate. “It will be the talk of the province.”

“So...what about Hanzo’s birthday?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He gave a smooth smirk and nodded at a waitress. She stumbled a bit and forced a smile back before walking stiffly to the employees only door. “You are an important man and have many duties.” He nodded to a different waitress who openly blanched and fled into the kitchen. “Just don’t forget to give me grandchildren in the meantime, eh?”

Genji flushed as his father ogled yet another slender waitress. “Really, Father....”

He laughed softly. “Ehh...I’m not as young as I used to be. I want to see some grandchildren. You can give me some strong grandsons.” He laughed again. “Maybe a granddaughter or two.” His smile grew thoughtful as he looked at a tourist couple with a tiny baby girl in a fuzzy pink sweater and reddish-brown corkscrew curls. “It would be almost like having your mother alive again.”

“W-w-what?”

He only shrugged and laughed again. “I...suppose you will only think me a foolish old man.”

“I’d never think that!” Genji snorted, even as he heard Kibo hiss he was an old man.

“I’m glad for that.” Sojiro glanced down at his glass with a frown and his voice dropped to an almost whisper. “You know, it gives me joy. You don’t think of me as a useless old man. Not like your brother.”

“What?!”

Sojiro scowled and glanced around. “Hanzo already considers me an old man. He is probably counting the days until I die so that he will take my position.”

“Never! He would never—.” Genji gulped his drink. “Look...I don’t know what anyone might have told you, but he...I—we’d never betray you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Not you.” His voice dropped to a frigid tone. “But still....”

“Hanzo wouldn’t!”

He smirked again, his posture suddenly relaxing even if his voice stayed in that private, low tone. “It’s why I wanted you as the wakagashira. Why I wanted you to succeed me. You would not forget an old man....”

“Never!”

He smirked and nodded, apparently soothed. “Now, I suppose that you have important work to do with the new club.” He signaled for the check and smirked as their waitress came sliding up to the table. “I have an appointment anyway.”

Genji glanced around. No one seemed to be a member of the Shimada-gumi or obviously watching his father or the room. “Is this...something you need backup for?”

“Not at all. Why?”

“Just...there’s no one else providing security?”

“It’s nothing—just a doctor’s appointment.”

He straightened up with an anxious grimace and pushed aside his drink. “I’ll go with you.”

“Nonsense. It’s just a doctor’s appointment, Genji. Nothing to worry about. Just go and make this new venture the best you can.” Sojiro drank the last of his drink and winked as he dropped his metallic card on the bill. “And don’t forget to rest, ehh? Can’t have you dropping or something.”

“What?!”

“Call it an old man’s worry. An old man’s frustration.” Sojiro nodded as the check got picked up. “I get so frustrated that I can’t do as much these days. It seems that everything is tiring these days. I used to be able to spar with Takeda-sensei and walk it off to do a money run that night. Now even the book work and the management of the clan tires me out.”

“But...that’s why we’re here to help you. Right, Father?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Yeah. We’re here to help you. To help shoulder some of the load.” Genji finished his drink. “It’s not a shame or dishonor to let us help and for you to take the time to relax and let us.”

Sojiro leaned back and seemed especially thoughtful. “It is I suppose a...a—an old man’s thoughts. I spent so much of my time working and it seems as if there is so much of your life I missed. I would spend hours doing the books, training and working and my sons are grown up and no longer need me.”

“But...you spent hours taking us around the estate and talking to us and stuff when we were in school!”

“Perhaps. But now—as I look over my life—I wonder if I spent enough time. If perhaps things would be different if I had spent more time training you, teaching you myself, rather than sending you off with nannies and tutors. If things were different....”

“What would be different?”

Sojiro shrugged with a flicker of a scowl across his face. “Ehh...I suppose it is the greatest disappointment of my life that I couldn’t make you the wakagashira and my successor.”

“What?!”

“It’s nothing I suppose. Never mind an old man’s ramblings. We both have things to do.” He sighed and stood, prompting Genji to rise as well. The waitress rushed to give them the receipts, bowing and nodding and thanking them in a high pitched warble. “Just do your best and make the business a success.”

Genji bowed low with a sigh. “Of course, Father. I will make you proud.”

“I know, son.” He smirked but his tone was still odd. “YOU have never disappointed me.”

Genji walked his father to his car and then strolled back to his car. When his phone flashed the reminder of Hanzo’s birthday, he stared at it for a long time as he sat in his car. Of course, he got a few important messages just then—there was a problem with the strobe lighting, the inspector for the plumbing needed to reschedule, the order for his bar mats and glasses was not shipped—that he needed to fix. He raced to the club to start working on solutions.

It was after 11:30 at night when he finally got off the phone and shut down his computer. He smirked as the workmen glanced up at him as he walked through the piles of construction materials and tools. The raised dance floor that he had added to the design was almost roughed in, but there would be another delay as the floor lights came in. A thousand different messages and ideas and thoughts were swirling around him as his phone beeped again.

“Hanzo’s Birthday. Repeat yearly. Reminder in 15 minutes?”

Genji rushed to his car. There was a grocery store nearby and he could just make it. The store was almost deserted as he all but ran to the bakery. Of course, because he was here and in a hurry, nothing turned out right. None of the coolers had their usual bounty of cupcakes or premade cakes. The display of cards was abysmal and in any case, he wasn’t sure that they even made cards saying, “I’m sorry that the only reason I am doing so badly this is because our father won’t and I wouldn’t have even remembered but I did because of my computer”. Then he stalked up and down the aisles before asking where the candles were, being directed to the selection of wide tea lights and scented candles, asking again and finally finding the last small box of multicolored birthday candles.

There was not much else to do. He finally decided on a black and white card with a clumsy ink drawing of a samurai with generic greeting on it. He picked out one of the plate sized chocolate chip cookies—God, he hoped it wasn’t stale—and a thin tube of red icing and flopped it all down on the checkout lanes. The impersonal clerk checked him out, taking his card and bagging everything up almost without looking at him.

He needed an assistant. No, really, he needed an assistant to remind him of all these silly things and to keep track of all these details. And a nice satchel—maybe leather—would be nice so that he didn’t always have his hands full of wires and computer and peripherals and papers. He sat in the car and sent a message to his father requesting an assistant and ordered himself a nice looking man-bag from somewhere in the U.S. with expedited shipping.

He shot through the late-night traffic and pulled quickly into his spot. Gathering the pile of things, he began walking through the halls as quietly as he could. He went into an empty room and clumsily scrawled out ‘Happy Birthday’ in shaky lines—he admitted to himself, Kibo and the small pot of orchids in the room that he had no future as a confectionary decorator. Fumbling with the small box of pencil thin candles, he jammed one into the rock hard cookie. It snapped and he cursed violently.

Kibo materialized and looked at him from a small perch beside the plastic box. “What are you doing?”

“Look, it’s a human thing. That we celebrate the day we were born.” Candles went everywhere as he fumbled the box to pull another one out. The second one broke and he pulled a thin knife from its hidden sheath to cut a hole in the cookie. “We usually have cake and presents and stuff, but I forgot and it’s late and I didn’t do anything so we’re stuck with the rock-hard cookie from hell and these cheap ass little candles.”

“And you will set the cookie on fire?”

“Uhh...the candle, but yes.”

“Why?”

“To blow them out.”

“Why?”

“It’s a tradition. Supposedly, you get a wish if you blow them all out in one breath.”

“That’s all?”

Genji laughed and popped a tiny, pebble-sized chip. “So, we’ve broken both blue candles and we’re down to pink, yellow and white. Which should we use?”

“Green.”

“We don’t have any of those. We have pink, yellow and white.”

Kibo stared at the candles curiously, picking up a yellow and a pink candle. “Which is which?”

Genji pointed at them. “This one is yellow and this one is pink.”

“They are the same.” It looked back and forth. “They are the same color except this one is a little darker.”

“What?!” He shook his head slightly. “I can’t.... You can’t see...colors?”

“I can see color! I can see white and black and gray and...green.”

“Ahhh....” He tossed the two white candles and picked up a yellow one. On no account was he going to use the pink ones. “I guess that makes a weird kind of sense.”

Picking up the cookie, he wobbled to Hanzo’s office. Of course, the one time that he wanted to see his brother, Hanzo wasn’t in his office. He took down the hall, determined to leave it in his tiny bedroom if he couldn’t find him.

At least there was a lamp on in Hanzo’s tiny room. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a lighter when he heard a soft voice singing.

“Well, fuck,” he whispered. Staring down at the cookie, he knocked on the door. “Hey...let me in.”

Hanzo’s voice was furred as he croaked out, “Hold on.”

The paper door slid open a crack and Hanzo crept out. His dark eyes looked both ways down the hall—left, right, left, right and left again—and then settled on the cookie in Genji’s hands. He dropped into a short bow. “How may I assist you?”

Genji blushed and looked at the clumsy cookie and the singular, yellow candle and the messy icing writing. The candle tipped out of the shallow hole and hit the red icing. “Well.... Happy birthday.” He fumbled slightly and took out the card. “Uhh...I got you a card.”

“My thanks,” Hanzo muttered softly, taking the plain envelope.

“Could...I come in?”

“W-w-w-what?”

“Come in and celebrate.” He smiled. “I heard someone singing....”

Hanzo flushed, his eyes wide. “I...there’s...nothing. No one.”

“Come on. Let me in. We’ll celebrate together.” Genji offered him a lopsided smile. “Hell...we can just sing and I’ll go away.”

He shook himself and jerked a bit. “You...you heard.” His face went pale. “You heard...us.”

“It’s okay. You know—whatever floats your boat.” He shrugged slightly. “Just...wanted to celebrate. Like a family.”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“No. Just Kibo and I.”

Hanzo nodded and turned towards the door. His voice shook slightly in a cutting whisper. “Tell anyone of this, and I will....”

“Sure.... No one. I won’t tell anyone.”

There was a heavy pause and Hanzo sighed. “It is too late—is it not? You already know.” He let out another heavy sigh. “Do not...just...please do not tell anyone.”

“Why not?”

His voice went to a low, anxious baritone. “I...I promised that...I would protect her.”

Genji felt a shiver go down his spine. Whatever threat Hanzo perceived, he must have thought it a huge problem if he felt his own home was unsafe. “O-o-okay.”

Hanzo slid open the door and nodded shortly. Genji followed him with a stumble and, somehow was not surprised to find Akane already there, kneeling on the bare floor. There was a white cardboard box with the name of a popular bakery on it and a box wrapped in brown paper with bows drawn in ballpoint pen on it. Next to that was a paper bag and he saw small package of paper plates and a package of plastic flatware.

Akane looked up at Genji, her face going paper white. She bent over her knees and let out a soft greeting. Hanzo crept over next to her and knelt beside her, holding the cookie and card in his hands as he looked at her.

“It is...all right, Akane.” He set down the cookie and gestured at the box. “He came to-to celebrate... with us.”

“Yes,” Genji smiled. “Of course. We’ll celebrate.... uh... together.”

Akane glanced between them anxiously. Finally, she nodded in a stiff bob that screamed that she was not convinced he wasn’t a ravening monster. “We are glad to celebrate...with you.” Her hands shook as she fumbled with a plate and a plastic fork, slicing him a piece of the thick cake. The plain red paper plate shook in her hands as she bowed and handed it to him. “Th-th-thank you for c-c-c-coming.”

Genji stared down at the layered cake—yellow sponge cake with strawberries and white buttercream icing and perfect strawberries on top—and glanced at her. “Wow. The... the Toyoma Bakery, huh?” She nodded slowly, glancing at Hanzo and staring at the floor. “They are... really good.”

She gave an anxious nod, but said nothing. Instead, it was Hanzo that spoke first. “It has been a... very... good birthday.” He shrugged slightly. “We have... have already sung, if that is what you are waiting for.”

Genji smiled widely and shrugged with a blush. “Ugh...you do not want me singing. Even Kibo doesn’t want me singing—and it’s actually heard me sing.”

Akane laughed shortly and Hanzo smiled. “I guess....” She shoved all the plates and plastic things into the bag again. “Perhaps we should go. I mean... it’s late.” She kept scooping things up and shuffling nervously. “And you both are...such busy—important men.”

Genji took a bite, not even tasting the soft and buttery cake. She didn’t even look up at him as she folded the box closed and kept glancing at them nervously. He forced a shaky laugh and said, “Before the gifts? Never.”

She looked up at Genji like a cornered deer. Then her gaze went to Hanzo and she froze. After an interminable moment, she sighed and nodded. With shaking hands, she picked up the package and handed it with suffocating ceremony to him. “H-h-h-happy birthday, sir.”

He bowed low and took the package. Every muscle was tight and stiff as he laid the package across his knees. For a moment, he just stared at it, his fingers tracing the drawn bow on the top. “Thank you, Akane-san. I cannot...cannot tell you how much... it means to me.”

A pink blush spread across her cheeks and all of her attention, for just a moment, was on Hanzo. Her smile warmed, became real as she watched him. “I...I hope you like it.” Suddenly, her eyes went wide and became uncertain. “It’s...it’s nothing. Nothing really...really special. I-I-I am so....”

Hanzo nodded at her. “I’m.... Thank you.” His hands stroked over the package gently again. “I am sure that...I will love it.”

Genji blinked nervously at the two of them, suddenly sure that not only was he interrupting but he was ruining what should be a special moment. It was like he was watching an intensely romantic chick-flick that should be making him nauseous, but because it was...Hanzo, it seemed touching and warm.

Hanzo’s fingers stroked the paper one more time. “Thank you, Akane-san.” Deftly, he slid his fingers underneath the edges and pulled up the edges of the tape. Suddenly, his face was alight with eagerness and smile. “I... cannot wait to see it.”

Precisely and elegantly, he removed the paper without a single rip. He pulled it off the old faux leather case and folded it before setting it aside. Stroking the anonymous box, he seemed to take in all the details at once. The top was scratched and the texture worn off the corners and the brass edges and clasps were dull with age. The old handle even had layers of what appeared to be ragged strips of cloth and duct tape that were dull and patchy gray as if it had been carried around for years.

Hanzo’s eyes flickered up to her filled with silent questions. She gave him the smile of feminine mystery that seemed to be the smirk of kitsune hiding a secret, a Sphinx offering a riddle. But there was no malice in this riddle, no horrific fate, only a terrible joy that seemed too pure for this world to bear. He nodded and looked at the case again as if it was holy.

Genji almost broke the moment. “Go on, anija—open it already.” He laughed merrily. “I can’t wait to see what it is.”

Hanzo only cracked a smile and brushed his hands over the worn case again. With the reverence seen in monks handling a holy relic, his fingers drifted to the clasps and opened them. They moved slowly, as if age had worn them thin, before clacking against the brass edging.

The case creaked open and the two hinged supports—old fashioned lid stays that hadn’t been used in years—at the side complained as they straightened to hold the top up like an old man finally straightening his back. Again, there was nothing particularly expensive or remarkable about the case. Indeed, even the inside was worn and seemed old. The carefully formed bottom was of threadbare velvet or something and there was a rectangular top at one end with a worn clasp holding it closed.

Hanzo’s hands went immediately to the bottom, though, and his eyes glistened wetly. “Akane-san.... I am.... What is this?” His entire being shivered as he lifted the gleaming lacquered bow out of the foam cutout and slid the two arching pieces of bamboo together. His fingers traced the bow, gliding over the leather wrapped grip and the smoked bamboo spine. Hot tears trickled out of his eyes as he fingered the loose hemp bowstring and his gaze became agonized as he looked at her. “Akane-san.... What have you done?”

She smiled at him as he kept turning the curved bamboo in his hands. His fingers traced the front of the bow where there was a zigzag striation of the wood in a lighter shade. “It...it was.... My grandfather’s bow.” Her eyes followed his fingertips as they ran up and down the bamboo. “We called it his ‘Storm Bow’ because it looked like there was lightning up and down, trapped in the wood.”

“It should be strung.” Immediately, Hanzo stood and held it up. “The bow’s kyuha needs to be remeasured and the string replaced. The grip needs to be powdered.” His hands shook as he glanced around with wild eyes. “I...I can’t string it here. It would scratch everything.” He knelt down beside the case and opened the rectangular top. He pulled out an yellowed plastic jar and nodded at the white powder in it. “The giriko powder—perhaps it is still good.” He laughed softly and his eyes were warm and smiling as he glanced at her. “I... actually do not know how long the powder is good for.”

Rummaging in the box, he pulled out what looked like a worn leather glove. Immediately, his whole face went soft and questioning. “Akane-san...his yagake?”

Genji was mystified as he looked at the thin, ragged leather glove. “What is that?”

“The yagake—his hand guard. One will last a lifetime if it is taken care of and used often.” His fingers traced the supple leather. “And this one was loved....”

She nodded with a shy smile. “Every day of his life he would go and practice. He would fire at whatever kind of targets he could—bales of pine straw or cardboard—and if he had no arrows he would still practice as if he did. And every week—every Saturday night—he would clean his glove and it was always as soft and smooth as silk. He would let me touch the...the glove—.”

“The yagake.”

“—and it would always feel so warm and soft and smooth.” She smiled, looking over the edge. “He had two tsuru strings in case one broke and every Saturday, he would let me wind them each into a neat bundle before he put it back into the case.”

Hanzo stroked the small semi-circular clips in the top of the case. “And he would put his ya—his arrows—here.” His hands shook over the edge of the case again. “And he loved this.”

“He loved it,” Akane repeated in a soft prayer. “His father taught him and his grandfather taught his father. He...he said it was like he was keeping them alive in his heart every time that he did it.” Her cheeks flushed warmly and her eyes gleamed in mischief. “He would let me set up the tin cans so that he would fire at them.”

Hanzo sighed with a last grin and gently laid it back in the case, replacing the items as if they were holy. Kneeling in front of the case, he bowed low over his knees like a monk at a temple. Slowly, he pulled himself up with his shaking shoulders heavy with respect and ceremony. Genji couldn’t gauge the agony behind his eyes as he looked at her. “Akane-san—you have honored me even showing me this weapon.” His fingers twitched like a child resisting grabbing a longed-for treat. “Yet, you cannot give me such a valuable thing.” His face was caught somewhere between ecstasy and agony and longing. “It is a...a valuable heirloom. It should be passed down to your...your sons. Your....your husband.” Again his hands fought to not touch it. “Such a weapon as the Storm Bow could be a-a-a dowry fit for a...samurai.”

Her face lit up. “And...I give it to you.”

His voice went sharp and harsh. “Why?! In the name of all that is holy—why would you give me...this?!”

Akane seemed to finally notice Genji and she gave him a glance as he stared at them. Then he was an unseen and ignored shadow audience again, as she looked at Hanzo. Her voice went soft and small as she whispered, “I wanted to give it to you.”

His eyes closed and two more soft tears went down his cheeks in a zigzag of agony. “You are too kind—too generous.” Without looking at it, he eased the case closed again. “It is a treasure you should save—.”

“I saved it for you.” She affected a pretend laugh. “I thought that...that you might like it.” Her hands jerked and wrung as her fingers twitched. “You...you seemed s-s-s-so happy when you t-t-talked about archery.... And, you will.... You will love the Storm Bow like he did.”

“I am—so unworthy of it.” Hanzo stroked the case compulsively. “I do not deserve the honor you have given me.” He jerked away, suddenly staring at the walls and away from the case. “It is too much.”

“It is yours,” she whispered in return. “I want you to have it.”

“Why?!” he demanded so sadly that he seemed furious.

“B-b-because I lo—.”

“Do. Not.” His voice was stern and almost scolding. “Do not l-l-love me. Do not...give me something so precious.” He pushed the case towards her. “Do not—I cannot. I cannot love you.”

“Why?” she whimpered, anxious tears in her eyes.

“I can not love you because...because it will.... You will die if I love you.” His hands reached across for hers, holding them as if he was cradling pearls or gems. “You will die if I love you. And...and I could not bear that. I can not do that, Akane-kun. I cannot watch you die—because I would die, too.” His eyes searched hers. “Do not ask me to watch you die.”

“I will be fine,” she whispered huskily. “I wrote to my mother—she is a widow now—a few weeks ago. My brothers are not at all interested in it, so she sent it to me to give to you....”

Genji felt like he should say something—perhaps break this awkward quiet as Hanzo nodded and began stroking the case again. Or that he should silently back away and let them have peace and privacy. He was nauseated by the stale cookie with the smeared icing and the hastily grabbed card. Akane must have ordered the cake weeks ago since the Toyoma Bakery was the best bakery in the area. She had thought ahead, somehow secreting her gift through Hanamura, and planned all this so that—.

Dammit. She had planned a time when he was not expected to be around and after his father usually went to bed. Genji flushed darkly, unsure whether to be ashamed he had had no notion of this or pleased that his brother was so...passionately happy for once or whatever this feeling was. So, he slowly moved away, rising silently to his feet and creeping out the door to close it behind him. Whatever this was, no one else needed to know about it. Probably no one else would care that the Shimada Scion was given an old bow by a servant with more heart than sense or that he was likely getting his dick wet at this moment. But, whatever this was, it was something rare and special that needed all the protection it could get before the gears of this world crushed it into extinction.


	21. Chapter 21

There was a quiet in the next morning that no one seemed willing to break. The air hung as heavy with secrets as water as the storms came rolling in from the south. Genji kept his head down and worked on the club. Sometimes it seemed that even from his makeshift office, he was as covered with sawdust as any of the construction workers. Thankfully, it was as Sojiro had told him, the building had good bones and the majority of the work was almost done and he could give a final launch date to his father.

Hanzo sensed the impending storm as well and stayed in his office and seemed intent on working through every hour he could. He still maintained his clockwork schedule of coming and going—to meetings, to training, to missions—and seemed to be defined by the tiny boxes on his calendar. There were often days that he only saw profiles of his brother in almost cameo appearances as the elder brother rushed away.

Sojiro seemed to be either ignorant of the tension or to have dismissed it entirely as one might dismiss a bad smell by opening a window and fanning it outside. He scrambled to find times that his younger son was free between all the various inspections and planning. As close as the launch was, Genji was often busy, and they worked hard to find a time they were both free. As such, it was a week before they could both sit down together.

“Son, how are you?” he asked over tea as Sakura fussed just out of earshot to get their lunches together. “Have you really been so busy with the club?”

“It will launch as expected,” Genji growled with a smirk. “As long as I don’t kill the damn contractor.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a good contractor, but we’ve hit every roadblock we ever could have—permit problems and plumbing and electric issues. The entertainment company has had issues because five of their disk jockeys have gone back to school. The offsite training found that a few of the waitresses and bartenders had not been background checked and not cleared for work. Then we found out one had been fired three times for thefts. It’s been a nightmare.”

Sojiro snorted in laughter and nodded. “That does happen. It will work out.” Sakura came in with a tray and served them tea before vanishing again. “But you are hereby excused from the meetings, so you will have extra time.”

“What?”

“I’ll excuse you from the meetings.” He shrugged. “They are all boring anyway. So focus on the club.”

“B-b-but...don’t the elders need updates?”

“Don’t worry about them. I’ll take care of them.”

“Oh...can you even do that?”

Sojiro puffed up his chest. “I am the kumicho, after all.” Genji nodded slowly, his eyes wide. “And the elders are far more concerned about those who are not trustworthy or who are not producing results. You are above reproach as my son, so you don’t need to worry about attending every single meeting.”

Genji frowned slightly, but his father’s voice was so firm there didn’t seem to be room for contradiction. “O-o-okay.”

“And take a few days off. Be a young man.” Sojiro scowled and twitched slightly. “That is something that I should have done, you know. I should have been young—gone out and done things as a young man when I was a young man. But instead I spent my time rushing around working myself nearly to death.”

Genji gave him a grin. “And now you can relax. You can enjoy your time and do what you want, right?’’ He shrugged again. “You can let Hanzo and I take care of it all.”

Sojiro only gave him a humorous snort. “I don’t need to worry as long as you are in charge.”

“Err...right,” Genji murmured.

His father smirked and said, “And now you have to get back. I have hired your assistant and he is going to be coming by this afternoon.”

“Oh?”

He smirked and nodded. “I hadn’t realized you were so overwhelmed, but it should be better now. And now you should be better off.”

“Uhh...thanks.” He shook his head in bemusement. “What about Hanzo?”

“What about him?”

“Is he getting an assistant, too?”

Sojiro shook his head. “I don’t see that he really needs one, does he?”

Genji sighed. “It’s just he’s always so...so busy, and maybe he could use one too?”

Sojiro waved absently. “I would have to see.... But he will never ask me anyway, so I suppose it doesn’t matter?”

“What?”

“And in any case, he hardly needs it. He’s not like you, Genji. He doesn’t spend any time with me. He doesn’t come by to talk or come out to eat lunch with me. He thinks he doesn’t need me to run the clan.”

“Father—I’m sure this is a...simple misunderstanding.” Genji shook his head. “I’m sure that we can work this out.”

“He’s always thought he doesn’t need me. That he’s better than me.” Sojiro frowned. “He’s arrogantly thought he’s better than me—ever since he was a child. And now he’s trying to replace me. That’s why he is so sensitive every time I try to give you even a tiny sliver of credit.”

“That’s not...not true.”

“Just do me a favor and when you run the clan, do not let your son be so arrogant. So certain of his position as your successor. Otherwise, he will be as bad as Hanzo.”

“Hanzo’s not that bad, Father,” Genji chuffed out.

“Just keep him at arm’s distance,” Sojiro growled. His eyes narrowed as he studied his younger son. Strangely, he didn’t seem to be seeing his younger son as much as a memory of his older son. “Do not let him get a hold of anything. And do not think that I don’t know of the poor-Hanzo story going around the estate. Why anyone believes that nonsense is beyond me.”

“What?!”

“He’s going to turn the whole household on its ear if we do not stop it. Do you know that I have heard that someone has been bringing him treats and food and...and things at all hours of the day and night?”

Genji shook for a moment. “What?!”

“It shocked me too.” He cocked his head. “You wouldn’t know who is doing that, would you?”

Genji flushed and then turned pale. “No. No, Father.”

Sojiro growled something unintelligible. “I will not have it.” He looked at Genji. “It is...intolerable.” He sighed bitterly, glancing around. “I suppose I’ll have to handle it before it disrupts the serenity of the whole household.

“By the way, there is a box from a sporting goods store. Sakura-san thought it might be important to tell me.”

Genji took in a deep breath. He had ordered the ya arrows for Hanzo’s new bow, but now was apparently not the time to admit that. “It’s just some training gear.”

“Oh? Then why not charge it to our normal account?” Sojiro asked. “But never mind that. I’ll tell her to give it to your assistant.”

“That’s fine. It’s nothing that won’t wait.” Genji gave his father the fakest smile. “And we should be getting back if I have to work with the new assistant.”

“Agreed. I will look forward to seeing your progress.”


	22. Chapter 22

Genji’s assistant was entirely efficient and, unsurprisingly, was given an office of his own. They spent the next hours organizing Genji’s schedule and setting up the appointments and meetings so that he could get reminders and alerts. He could even get his office phone calls forwarded to the club and vice versa. All in all, it was a productive few hours, even if he wasn’t at the construction site.

His assistant was in charge of the office and making sure that the email and appointments were done and little tasks like getting his motorcycle and car in for maintenance were scheduled and accomplished. With someone taking over the various pieces at the office—messages and arranging reservations for Sojiro and handling a whole bunch of odds and ends—Genji was able to get more done at the club.

Or on the club, anyway. He was hopeless at swinging the hammer, but he was spending untold hours at various government offices getting permits and negotiating and renegotiating inspections and all kinds of other things. He had no idea that this was going to be such a painful process just handling the paperwork.

He dropped a note in the box and gave the box to Akane. When or how she got it to Hanzo, he decided he was better off not knowing. She didn’t even look at him, either, so he supposed that they were even. So, he went back to working on the club and training with Takeda-sensei when he could. Every other moment was filled with escorting his father to clubs and outings and then ensuring that he had a way home when Sojiro found a tasty looking woman to devote his attention to.

The launch swiftly approached and he found himself busy from morning to night. He had made every effort and spared no expense to make it memorable. So, he started with a rousing performance of taiko drums that echoed against the cement buildings. There was an evening party of only the best people he could manage to beg or harangue or pressure into attending. He laid out a red carpet and set up searchlights to attract attention in the ultimate bait-and-switch of seeing the celebrities on the red carpet in front of his club and then whisking them inside. After cocktails, the celebrities could choose to exit via the covered VIP exit in the back, or stay and enjoy the party.

That ensured that everyone wanted to come in—to gawk and possibly see someone famous. So, they came in with the cover charge and the three item minimum, he made roughly what the Americans called “a mint”. The energy from the multiple disc jockeys invited people to dance, to stay long into the night. He was thankful he had taken so long to train his employees—so no one had to wait for a drink more than a minute, despite the crowd. And over it all, he milled through the crowd, drinking and enjoying being the life of the party.

The club didn’t close until 3:15 a.m. and Genji didn’t get to leave until 4:30–after the staff cleaned up and left. His head felt swollen and he would swear that it was filled to bursting with liquid. He finally got home—though he didn’t remember how, exactly, beyond a few vague images of streetlights and a humorous picture of Kibo standing on his knees and turning the wheel. That had to be a dream, but he awoke in his bed with his clothes askew and his tie improbably tangled in a lump in his sink.

He managed to be up and relatively coherent that afternoon. Not that he was fully well—he still felt buzzed—but it was enough that he was upright and at least mostly coherent. It was enough so that he could greet Sojiro and nod that the launch had been a success. He didn’t feel like eating more than a half bowl of rice and guzzled tons of tea. He grabbed three coffee drinks—triple espressos with vanilla and caramel shots and a powder that was supposed to provide vitamins and minerals—and got back to the club. There was supposed to be a second party—a few fringe celebrities and online bloggers, some entertainment and restaurant reviewers—and it was important to impress them to get his club’s online presence out there.

There were parties all week. Some were planned events with local important people. Some were unplanned on his part—immediately reserved parties for his party rooms and VIP areas. The mayor’s middle son turned twenty-one and took a few hours in the VIP area. The chief of police brought out a few local detectives to celebrate a retirement. Two couples who were famous only on the Internet visited with a thick retinue of paparazzi and a crowd of people who wanted to be famous. Most of the parties were glad to have him bring them a round of drinks to celebrate with them and then returned the favor by buying him a shot or two in return.

Ten days after the opening, disaster struck when a bleached blonde starlet in a huge fur coat and white leather boots with a ridiculous dog in her purse came in and sat down in his club. A wildly thin girl in a plain and modest dress and leather flats began slogging back and forth to bring her mineral waters and lemon martinis. That was not important in itself until her infamous ex-rock star ex-boyfriend showed up and started moaning at her. She flipped her hair and snorted and ignored him, only to have him grow louder and louder and more obnoxious. When he picked up a chair, the paparazzi had a field day of flashing bulbs and crowding around the scene, which made it even harder for the club security to get them out before someone else got hurt. He stepped in and wrapped his arms around her, cursing as she kept screaming at the cameras.

The next day, as he held his head and vowed—again—to not drink as his own bar, he staggered to the dining room to get some food and something to take the foul taste out of his mouth. Sakura gave him a glare and stroked a thread of hair out of her face as she took his orders for food—espresso and a bowl of rice.

Sojiro stomped in angrily with the paper in his hand. He tossed it down and Genji felt green to see the worst possible picture on the front page—the messy blonde spilling out of her coat and whatever skimpy thing she wore beneath it screaming at the camera and her breasts all but bare over his arms. Something strange with the angle and the flash of lights and the crowd shoving around him, and he looked like he was all but nibbling her neck from behind her. “F-f-father...I can.... I can explain.”

Sojiro knelt at the table, snapping at him, “I cannot tell if this is a case of any publicity being good publicity or a supremely bad thing.” Sakura set the French demitasse of espresso in front of Genji and Sojiro snapped, “And for heaven’s sake—get some real food.”

“She...she was causing a problem,” Genji sighed as Sakura took one look at the kumicho and disappeared. “I could have handled her...but then her ex came in.”

“And caused damage to the club and to our reputation,” he snapped. “We will never be successful if we get a reputation of being unsafe.” He scowled. “If I had known this kind of disaster would have happened, I would have put Hanzo in charge of it.”

“It’s not...that big a deal,” Genji hissed as Sakura slid back inside with bowls of rice and small bowls of pickled vegetables. “Just a picture.”

Sojiro glanced at the paper and turned it around to stare at it. “I suppose....” He glanced up at his son and then down at the picture. “We are not hurting for the publicity—and we can spin it, of course.” He glanced up and then down again as if he was inspecting a paper on a racehorse. “It doesn’t hurt for people to know that you are sought after.”

Genji groaned and flushed. “I wasn’t going after her—I was trying to get her out of the club before her ex tore up the place.”

Sojiro laughed and pointed at the picture. “Ehh...it’s hard to say that she wasn’t enjoying it from this picture.” He smirked up at his son. “You look like a playboy.”

He only shook his head slowly and laughed. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?” Shrugging, he gulped some tea. “I’ll see about some extra security for the VIP area.”

“Yes—I suppose that will work, too.” Sojiro winked slyly. “But do not forget me, ehh?” Genji looked vaguely confused and uncomfortable. “Don’t forget to make me a grandfather.”

He laughed and stood up. “I’ll see about the new security today. There will be some training, but we can get them in there.”

“All right...I will take what I can get.” He nodded slowly with a vinegary smile. “See to the club and then to my grandchildren.”

“Okay—uhm, I’ll—uhh...,” Genji sighed. “Yeah, I’ll...get right on that.” They began to eat their lunch with smiles. Sakura got them another pot of tea and then left them. “I am going to get the club settled for tonight, and then I’ll make the meeting tomorrow.”

Sojiro waved absently. “Don’t worry about the meetings. There certainly are enough of us there to hear the reports and how the profits are down—.”

“Down?”

He sniffed slightly. “Yes. There’s a few things—a small dip in the stocks because of a stock market correction. Regulations changing on how banking loans are granted. It’s affecting all sorts of things—mostly how much disposable income people have to spend on things like clubs and all sorts of things like that.” He shrugged. “It will make collecting full protection money and our percentages of profits more difficult if it doesn’t resolve.”

“Hmm....it sounds like things are going to be lean for a while.”

“I suppose—but that’s not something you need to worry about.” Sojiro took another drink. “We know you have been working late at the club and the elders will understand when we tell them.”

“Are you sure?” Genji frowned. “I mean...I’m sure that with the outlay for the club, they at least want an update. Is it really okay for me to miss the meetings like this?”

“Of course—I’d never lead you wrong and will always excuse you.” He grinned wildly. “And it’s not like I won’t be there.”

“And Hanzo,” Genji sighed.

Sojiro rolled his eyes and all but snarled, “Ah yes...he will be there. You could practically set a clock by him.” He sighed impatiently. “He is stuck in his office. I will guarantee you that he is going to be there like a robot.” He glanced up with a tight, angry smile. “And he will sit there like a lump and never—ever—have half the ideas or insights that you will.”

“B-b-but I can’t have insights if I’m not there.”

“You take care of the club. I’ll let you know if there is anything worth reporting.”

“I’ll see if I can get away and join the meeting, but I’ll put the club first.”

“Good.... I knew I could count on you.”

He found a few new people and added them to his payroll. The head of security—who boasted the unique name of ‘Tenshi’ or ‘Angel’—took them in without a second thought. For tonight, they would be shadowing the people on payroll and keeping their eyes open for trouble.

Everyone was on guard, though. He sighed and kept milling around, directing managers and workers. Of course, tonight was the night that one of the ice machines died and he ran out to a 24 hour grocery store to grab a dozen bags until the service man could show up and fix it. Then there was a small problem as a paparazzi ended up drunk and in the ladies’ room and had to be ejected and his camera destroyed. But, the party couldn’t end, so he brought a strategic few of the more important groups free drinks and took a few shots with them.

Another night—another successful, tens of thousands in sales night—and Genji was exhausted and ready for bed. One of the closing waitresses kept flirting with him and he took her to his office. She was a college student looking for a few extra hours that paid well and promised a good time.

“Hey, handsome,” she giggled. “What are you looking for?”

She had the sequined Lycra corset looking uniform top and a pretty gold name tag with her name in English letters and in Japanese. He leaned in and took a sniff of her and she smelled of a soft perfume and no alcohol on her. He grinned at her and whispered, “I might be looking for you. Haven’t you had a drink yet?”

She giggled again and took a theatrically deep breath that he had no doubt had increased her tips. “Not yet.” Her fingers traced his buttons down his chest. “But...the night is still young and hey, boss...I’ll do anything.”

“Hmm...maybe it is.” He picked up a bottle from his office stock and poured a bit into two glasses. Nodding at the couch in his office, he grinned as she took the tumbler and went over and sprawled on it. “We can see.”

She was uncomplicated. She had no expectations, no demands beyond some of his whiskey and a long weekend next week. She wanted a wild time and screwing the boss on the couch of his office while her teammates locked up the building seemed good enough.

He staggered back home in the light of the sunrise and collapsed in the bed. It really was only two hours before the servants were knocking on his door to clean it. He blinked blearily at his phone and got up again. They stared at his pale skin, bags under his eyes, the creased and mussed suit, and tittered at him, which made his head ache.

“We will be happy to come back later,” the younger one said as they bowed low.

“Do that!” he snapped. “In fact, just don’t come back at all today, huh? I had a long night last night.”

They tittered anxiously again and then slid down the hallway to the empty suite. That made him even more upset—knowing that the rightful suite of the Scion was empty—and he shouted at them again. They looked at him as if he had grown a second head and scurried away.

He flopped back down to sleep and even then there was no rest. His dreams were fractured and frightening. He was again a small child and he went to the wakagashira’s suite to find his brother. The suite was strange—there were too many empty rooms in pristine and antique beauty—but there was no one in them. He walked through bathrooms, huge onsens, bedroom after bedroom, offices, sitting rooms and parlors. He called out over and over, fighting to get through the suite only to find that the doors never led back to the hallway, only further into the suite.

When he woke up, it was late in the afternoon. Groggy and shaking, he got undressed and showered and shaved. Kibo wove on the floor at his feet, running into the wall twice before looking up at him and curling into a dim corner.

“Come on,” he grumbled. “Let’s get going.”

“Kibo is tired.” The little dragon rubbed his eyes. “Kibo does not like this.”

“I know, Kibo. I’m tired, too.” Genji sighed blearily. “But...we can get through—,” he muttered as he glanced at his watch, “—the meeting with the elders and then I’ll call in sick.”

“My father does not want us there,” Kibo whined reasonably. “He said not to go.”

“We will go anyway,” Genji muttered. “It won’t hurt anything to know what’s going on.”

He showed up at the hallway just as the last elder was bowing in greeting to Sojiro. His father stared at him and hastily bowed and smiled. “Genji! I was...well, welcome. I will—. I am glad to have you here.”

“Father—how are you?”

“Fine. I am fine.” Sojiro nodded and smiled. “Come in. We will get started, then.”

Genji grinned in return and bowed. He slid into an empty chair on the other side of his father and settled back. As his father had said, the profits were down. For the moment, they were not too badly affected—just a few percentage points down from this time last year—but they would be unless the financials stabilized.

Finally, Aiko spoke up with a sarcastic chuckle, “What a time to invest in a high dollar nightclub, eh? We must have been crazy to invest it right now when nobody will have any money.”

There was a breathless moment of silence as if they were waiting to see what Sojiro would do in the face of such socially acceptable criticism. Instead of directly responding, he only shrugged and nodded with a thin grin to Genji. “It is perhaps a bit unfortunate matter of timing, but people will always need to have their little escapes, will they not?” Aiko shrugged slightly and nodded in return despite his frown. “We are merely offering them a way to enjoy themselves to our own profitable ends.”

Everyone let out a soft and polite ripple of chuckles and nodded. Genji cleared his throat and impulsively added, “We have had over a week of high profits—.”

“And a number of bad articles in the papers and online,” someone else muttered as Aiko nodded.

Sojiro waved slightly, “Unfortunate timing for a bad situation.”

Aiko nodded slowly again and shrugged. “Of course there are things that can’t be avoided. However, I say with all due respect, that it is still far too early for us to congratulate ourselves on the newest investment. There is always the possibility that it will fail—at a great cost.”

“And what would you suggest we do?” Sojiro demanded sourly. “If we do nothing, we stagnate and our wealth vanishes in a generation.”

“Sir! With all due respect, this is—.”

“There is no gain without risk,” Sojiro interrupted with a snarl. The entire meeting went silent at the flickering orange on his wrist. “The investments we made will be successful.”

“O-o-of course, sir,” Aiko nodded faintly, glancing warily at the gathering sparks. “We would simply appreciate more regular information and participation—.”

Sojiro coughed in that dry way that signaled that danger was ahead. “Does anyone else share this point of view?”

Suddenly, the room—even the gaggle of accountants and secretaries around the rim of the room—went entirely quiet. They stared away from both men as if suddenly there was nothing more interesting or important in the world than their nails, their watches or the completely pristine bare walls. Aiko’s secretary behind him moved aside slightly but didn’t even look up. No one dared to so much as breathe too heavily.

Sojiro sat back and gave a thin laugh. “I see no one else does.” The group stayed in their exact spot, not looking anywhere else. Silence smothered the room in aching desperation. Genji was inwardly laughing at the sudden gleaming sweat on their foreheads and the shaking of their hands until he wiped his palms discretely against his pants. But the silence stretched on and on with no end in sight and the tension pulled taunt until Sojiro nodded and snapped, “Everyone else is dismissed.”

All eyes went to Aiko as he sat with his head bowed at the table. Slowly, everyone else rose and collected their papers and things. No one spoke a single word of farewell, not even Hanzo moved.

Kibo whispered in Genji’s head. “This is bad.”

Genji blinked slowly and thought quietly, “I know.”

“Will a dragon have to die?”

Genji couldn’t resist a tiny twitch of his head as the dragon’s voice seemed to whisper in his left ear so softly that he would have to turn if a human was speaking. “Does Aiko have a dragon?”

“My father is very.... I do not know the word.”

“He is furious, Kibo.”

“He will kill this one.”

“M-m-maybe not.” Genji’s hands twitched slightly as he realized he was stuttering in his head. “He may just warn him.”

There was a soft murmur outside as every person but Aiko filed out. The man was sweating as he carefully laid aside his gold pen and pushed the pad he was writing on precisely one place to the side. He gave a smirk as if this was exactly he had always known things would happen, not even looking as Sojiro and his sons rose to their feet.

There was a thoughtful moment more as everyone stared. Finally, Aiko looked up at the room and his smirk widened to a thoughtful grin. “You know,” he all but chuckled, “my dragon said that it was not a fortunate day today.”

Sojiro scowled and nodded. “I would say that you should have obeyed such wise instruction.” He scowled at the seated man, his dragon’s sparks still flickering in orange around his fist. “Have you any final words?”

Aiko glanced at the gold pen again. “My father gave me that pen when I took his place as an elder and I was going to give it to my oldest son when he was old enough.”

“I will remember that when I give it to him,” Sojiro said without emotion. Aiko nodded silently, one finger stroking the long golden pen before he folded his hands. “Perhaps.”

Aiko glanced up at Genji and Hanzo and seemed to summon up a condemned man’s courage. “He will dispose of you two as well if you defy—.”

“Enough!” Sojiro snarled. Aiko shrugged and smiled at himself as if he was the only one who heard the joke. The kumicho stared down at him for a moment more and his hand flicked to his older son. “Hanzo—if you would do the honors.”

Hanzo glanced at his father uncertainly. “S-s-sir?”

Sojiro turned towards the door. Speaking over his shoulder, he snarled, “I expect you to handle this.” Glancing over his other shoulder, he continued in a light voice, “Come, Genji.”

“B-b-but...what about Hanzo?”

“He can take out the trash.” Sojiro pointed to the door. “We will go to lunch.”

Aiko snorted and glanced at the elder son. “He will not even dispose of me himself. How long before you are expendable, Hanzo-san?”

Hanzo stared at all of them with a sudden, distinct air of confusion. “I-I-I.... How?” Sojiro didn’t answer him at all. Instead, he went to the door and reached to tug Genji’s arm. “Sir?”

Sojiro sighed impatiently, “Just get it done, already, and do not shame us.” He tugged Genji’s arm again towards the door. “Come Genji—we will go.” His head bowed slightly and his voice went artificially warm even though his smirk was arctic. “I have asked for fresh salmon and some matcha mochi for dessert.”

Genji followed his father out reluctantly. As he looked over his shoulder, he saw Hanzo slide on gloves to take a small vial of colorless liquid out from a hidden pocket. His brother’s face was etched in something like sorrow as he loosened the cork out and handed it over. His father tugged hard and drug him out to the hallway, closing the door.

Abruptly, Sojiro stood there in the hallway and froze. There was nothing for a few moments and Genji looked at his father anxiously. He was about to burst into the room again when he heard a crash. He whirled and went to the door, only to have Sojiro grab his elbow and shake his head. His father grimaced and shook his head slowly.

“Let him handle it,” he snorted.

“But...but there is—.”

Sojiro made a rude noise and shook his head again. “Let us go to eat.”

“But...but what about...Hanzo?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He rolled his eyes impatiently. “Fine—we will get something to settle your stomach in my office.”

Genji stumbled through the hallways to his father’s office. He flopped down on a chair and just looked at his father. Sojiro only shrugged and poured some whiskey for them. Sliding a tumbler towards his son.

“W-w-w-what was...that?” Genji hissed.

Sojiro shrugged and sipped the whiskey. “That? That was nothing.”

“Nothing?!” Genji gasped.

“He has been asking for this,” he replied evenly. “It will be fine.”

“What—what about Hanzo?”

“What about him?”

“Uhh....shouldn’t we go and...like...?” Genji shrugged and took an anxious swallow of alcohol. “Like help him?”

Sojiro blinked in the picture of confusion. “Why? It’s a simple enough task we’ve given him.”

“A ‘simple enough task’?” Genji gaped. “‘We’?”

“Yes—all we asked was to get rid of a querulous old idiot who was causing trouble.” Sojiro took a tasteful sip again. “Aiko has been causing issues ever since Hanzo was doing his presentations. I had thought it was simply that he was being cautious, but now—.”

“He...he was just pointing out the—uh... risks?”

“He was trying to shame you,” Sojiro replied evenly.

“And he had to...to die?” Genji shook his head. “For...?”

There was a knock at the door and Sojiro grunted. Hanzo’s low voice interrupted even as his eyes were dropped to the floor. “Excuse me, sir.”

Sojiro didn’t even look at him. “Has the mess been cleaned up?”

Genji felt his whole face grow pale as Hanzo nodded painfully slowly. He murmured, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. You may go.”

Genji felt the tumbler shake in his suddenly numb fingers. Choking out the words, he said, “I’ll—I’ll go, too.” His father looked up in surprise and he burbled, “I have some stuff to do anyway. For the uhh...the club.”

“Oh...of course.” His expression was strangely strained. “I will miss you at lunch, but of course work comes first.”

Genji rose with a swift bow and began to follow his brother’s swiftly retreating form. He automatically silenced his steps now, dropping back to an observable distance. His brother’s gait shifted as soon as he got out of the public office wing and into the private family area. There, he pushed his hand into his kimono—the loose top shifting slightly—and swayed a bit. He shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing the wall as he suddenly limped to his room and slid the thin door closed behind him.

Kibo materialized on his shoulder, whispering, “My brother is hurt badly, and is in pain.”

Genji quietly snorted, “Oh? And you have a medical degree?”

The dragon shifted its long neck and stared at him as if he was stupid. “Is it not obvious?” It looked back down at the closed door. “I can help him.”

“Uhh...maybe not, Kibo,” he whispered. “He might not want us to interfere.”

“He is hurting.” It floated to the door and wove in the air before floating back to Genji’s shoulder. “It is getting worse, too.”

“Worse?”

“My brother hurts more in the heart,” it whispered. “It meant a lot when my father—.”

“No,” hissed Genji. He wrapped his hand around the snout and began running towards his own suite. Once he got there, he stared at Kibo in his glowing green eyes. “Look—Hanzo is my brother, not yours. And Sojiro is my father, not yours.”

Kibo’s eyes went wide and it nodded slowly. When he released it, it nodded slightly and went to perch on his desk. Slowly, it looked around and crept sideways a few steps away from a cup and then looked thoughtfully at Genji. “Hanzo is sad, and it hurts him. More than his foot and side.” It cocked its head as it seemed to listen. “And Hanzo has dragons are my brothers. They feel what he feels like we do. The one known as ‘Father’ has the dragon who is my father.”

“What? You are all...related?” Genji gaped.

“Kibo feels Genji’s pain.” It settled sadly. “Kibo hears what other dragons say, but they do not like to talk to Kibo all the time.”

“So...you really know that Hanzo is hurt?” It nodded slowly. He sighed and grabbed the first aid kit from his bathroom. “We’ll go and make him feel better.”

Kibo sighed and shook its head. “We can’t fix the deep hurt in Hanzo’s heart.”

Genji paused uncertainly. “How can we help?”

“My father is hurting Hanzo,” it nodded.

He frowned. “Is that... Sojiro? Or your father? Your dragon father?” He shook his head in confusion. “You’re confusing me, Kibo.”

“Your father—Sojiro,” it snapped. “My father cannot stop it and it hurts Hanzo and his dragons cannot protect him.” It shook its head and its mane flowed wildly. “Why does he not like Hanzo?”

“What? Sojiro.... Look! Sojiro loves us both. He just doesn’t.... He doesn’t have the same relationship with me as he does with Hanzo.” Genji gaped and flopped on the chair. “And... and he loves us both. We’re both his sons and he loves us and we’re both p-p-part of the clan.”

It just stared at him and he scowled. “Look—what is wrong with you? He is my father and Hanzo is my brother and we are a good family.” He rolled his eyes impatiently. “And...it’s not like Hanzo is...is—.”

“Is what?”

“He’s just working all the damn time. That’s all he does. Work. Train. Missions. Rinse and repeat!” Genji growled at the dragon. “I’m the one stuck going to restaurants and clubs and seeing my father flirting with all the girls. And half of them are...are young enough to be his daughter. They’re my age or younger. But I’m the one spending time with him and actually listening, so it’s natural that he would want to spend more time with me.” Grumbling, he glanced away from the unflinching stare. “Besides, who would want to spend time with Hanzo? He’s boring.”

The dragon’s face seemed to tilt in a decidedly lectionary way. “Who would know my brother Hanzo?”

“Why, Kibo?”

“Because you will not get answers unless you do.”

Genji made a rude noise. “Look...he needs help, I guess?”

Kibo nodded and put one claw to its chest. “He needs many kinds of help.” Genji nodded and stood up. “But you must be sure he can accept your help.”

“Yeah...no one is proud like he is,” he muttered.

Kibo shrugged and burst into sparkles before landing on his arm. He took the first aid kit and went down to the room Hanzo used. His brother was there and had a kit of his own—a rather large and ragged cardboard box with various bandages and bottles in it—and his foot was already wrapped in a peach colored bandage.

Genji tapped on the doorframe. “Hey...do you need help?”

Hanzo jumped at the first word. “Ahh...I will.... That is....”

Genji walked in and knelt beside his brother. “I saw you holding your ribs. Can I help wrap you up?”

He flinched and grew pale as his hand went automatically to his side. Genji scooted closer and looked as his brother panted and pulled the top away. There was a large blood purple bruise there and Genji took the long white bandage to begin wrapping it around his brother’s torso. Hanzo began sweating heavily as the cloth strip pulled tight.

“Hey, anija—,” Genji whispered. “—why don’t you and I get this and I’ll go get you something.” Hanzo looked up at him as he got to his feet. “Just stay there.”

“What is....?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head and gave him a smile. “Hey...just think that I’m finally paying you back for taking care of me.”

“But—?”

“Nah...just stay there, Han,” he said. “Don’t move.”

“I will be...be f-f-fine, Genji,” he whispered. “Aiko-san simply...was a bit harder to subdue th-th-than I thought.”

“How bad are you hurt?”

“My ribs.” Hanzo panted and licked his sweaty lips. “He.... It just hurts—to breathe.” 

Genji stopped at the doorway and looked at his brother over his shoulder. “Did you...did you really kill him?” The silence was deafening and he realized that was all the answer he needed. So, he nodded to himself and sighed, “Okay. I’ll close the door behind me and I’ll be back in a bit.”


	23. Chapter 23

The good thing about being Genji Shimada—one of the many good things—was that he knew where to get drugs. So, he bought a small bag of anonymous white pills from someone he arranged to meet in the gathering evening darkness in the alley behind the club and he returned to Hanamura. He didn’t stop to see anyone or to speak to anyone as he went through the hallways.

At Hanzo’s room, he slid inside and knelt beside the futon that Hanzo was stretched out on. “Hey—I told you that I’d be back.” His brother nodded slowly. “And I’d guess someone has helped you get down?”

Hanzo nodded and put an anxious finger to his lips. Genji nodded slowly and pulled out the bag. It was better to not say any names, even in the best of times and definitely not if the Scion was down. Pulling it open, he showed Hanzo the white, round pill. “This will help.”

Unusually, Hanzo did not question or analyze the pill, but simply took it with a dry swallow. “Wh-wh-what is it?”

He sighed and shook his head. “This is...uhhh....”

“You don’t know.”

“I know! Just....”

Kibo materialized and gingerly sat down on the futon. It looked up angrily at Genji and twisted, shaking its head. “It is...bad.”

“What is it, Kibo?”

“My brother is hurt.”

“Where, Kibo?”

The dragon traced its side from its spine to its front. “Here.”

Hanzo whispered, “Aiko-san was difficult—and strong.” His eyes glanced away, but he was definitely feverish as he stopped sweating and still stayed flushed. “He.... Do not tell—anyone.”

“I won’t.” He fiddled with the bag and sat it down beside the futon. “Here. These are extras.”

“What is it?”

“Okay...the guy said it was Oxy.”

“But...you don’t know for certain?”

Genji shook his head. “Look...just.... This is from one of us, Hanzo. One of our dealers. He wouldn’t cheat us, right?”

Hanzo seemed to be growing dizzy, uncertain. Kibo’s expression confirmed that something needed to be done. Genji glanced at the little dragon’s firm glare and checked the time on his watch. He looked down at Kibo.

“Kibo—go see if you can heal him.”

“Kibo needs Shokan and Kenryoku’s permission.”

“What the—?! Hell. How do we get that?”

Hanzo only nodded at it. Then Kibo took a deep breath that swelled its body like a balloon and then vanished into sparks. The tiny glitters hung in the air and then swirled towards Hanzo’s torso. The sparks crept over his body, lingering over a specific spot before sinking through his clothing until it had all but disappeared. After a breathless moment, Hanzo gasped and shuddered. There was a long, silent moment that Genii was sure he heard Kibo reorganizing and rearranging the particles of bone and blood in the form of tingles and approving hums. Hanzo’s face was white and he hissed before going almost completely limp. Another long silence and a dark cloud of shiny sparkles flew off his body like ash before vanishing. The sparkles flowed out like a gel to the thin futon and slid to Genji’s knees. It collected and then absorbed noiselessly.

Hanzo blinked anxiously a few times and sat up. His jaw dropped as he twisted slightly this way and that and rolled his shoulders and tilted his neck. He winced, but was obviously not in as much discomfort. “What a... remarkable creature your dragon is.”

Genji laughed anxiously. “Yeah.... I guess.”

“My dragons do not have such skill in healing.” Hanzo grinned and nodded as he pressed his side. “They are not—.”

“It’s cool, anija.” Genji stared at the little bag of pills, wondering what to do with it now. “So...what happened?”

“Aiko...,” he sighed. His cheeks flushed as he looked at his brother. “He was... not inclined to take the prepared poison and slammed the projector into my ribs.”

Genji blinked nervously, his eyes wide and shaken. “Is he—dead?” His brother nodded grimly. “But...what I don’t get is... why?!”

That made Hanzo’s entire being scowl. His eyes glistened with sharp, cold lights like broken obsidian. He scowled a moment more and then turned away. “It is....”

“‘It is’ what?!”

“I do not wish to speak about it,” he hissed as he shifted to get comfortable. “We should not be here together.”

Genji shuddered slightly as the barely leashed violence in his brother. “Okay. What about after training tomorrow?”

Hanzo’s frown deepened into a vicious scowl. “I would prefer not to—.” He cursed slightly and shivered. “There is nothing to do.”

Genji couldn’t resist trying to tease him. “Oh? Should I ask Akane—?”

That made him lurch, leap off the futon and on top of Genji. His face was right on top, almost nose to nose as he panted painfully. “Do not even say her name.”

He held his hands up, trying to force a grin at the sudden fury of his brother. “Hey...what’s the big deal?”

Hanzo shoved hard to push himself up off his brother to kneel of the futon. “She.... She should not be put in unnecessary distress.”

“Distress?”

Hanzo began anxiously fixing his clothes, straightening and folding the precise creases back in shape. He swayed slightly as the illicit pill dissolved into his bloodstream. “It is complicated.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Hanzo seemed to be either praying for patience or to relieve a headache. “She is.... She has made many sacrifices.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, standing up and dusting off. “That cake was expensive.”

“Not only that. She... she helped me greatly.” He sighed again. “It is not cheap for me to pay for my own supplies—.”

“What?” he gaped. “Why don’t you just...like charge it to the accounts?”

Hanzo laughed, holding his side as it still ached. “How would I do that?”

Genji shook his head with a grin. “You’re too much. You just go to one of the stores or order online and you give either one of the credit card numbers or just tell them to charge it to the Shimada accounts.”

Hanzo shook his head with a bitter grimace. “I have never been able to charge to those accounts. I do not have a card and the charge is refused when I try to...when I have tried to use the accounts.” He shrugged. “So I have been paying—.”

“By yourself?!” Genji gaped as Hanzo shrugged and knelt again beside the futon. “Fuck—that’s screwed up. I mean, the ammunition alone is black market in the quantities we use. Not to mention weapons and med packs.”

“At least I’m not trying to pay the bribes. Those are line items.” Hanzo frowned. “But I am still paying for food and supplies—almost everything.”

Genji sat back on his heels. “So...how does—?”

Hanzo glowered and shook his head. “She...she is a—. She began bringing me... treats. We have to.... She has a rice cooker or steamer or something. When the kitchen closes, the staff are forced to do whatever they can.”

His voice choked harshly. “The-the first time she.... She was studying for an associate’s degree. She brought me a few rice balls and a bowl of colorful candies and had... had a shopping bag with some fruit—two mandarin oranges, a banana and two apples. She was... stuck on a problem with a foreign language test.”

“Which language?”

“English.”

“Hah! Then she went to the right brother. I sucked at English and wouldn’t have passed except for your help.”

Hanzo blinked in clear shock. “Everyone here was told that you passed easily. That you were... brilliant in every class.”

Genji crosses his arms angrily. “Did you see my grade report?!”

“Err... no? They were-that is—.”

“What a crock! I was barely able pass some of the classes.” He drug his hand through his hair and flicked it irritably. “What the hell? Why does he feel the need to lie about it?!”

Hanzo only shrugged. “She needed just a little help and was quiet company. She would bring me a bit of a snack and just sit while she studied.”

“Well,” Genji grinned with a bit of snark in his voice, “with how little you get for breakfast—.”

“I have told you it is what I can readily afford!” He turned away. “Not all of us can have endless money and charge to accounts without thinking about it!” He growled low in his throat. “I do not have much to spend on myself and....”

Genji waved absently. He could hear Kibo anxiously chittering in his head. “But...you are the Shimada Scion! You should have your own accounts and stuff.”

Hanzo wove unsteadily and his words were starting to slur. “She.... I was.... Was hungry. She was quiet—and she would bring me things. A rice ball or some cheap candies.” He slumped slightly. “When I came back with my—my dragons...she came in with her lunch. They g-g-grabbed her bag and ate h-h-her oranges.

“She said she o-o-owed me and off-offered to help me w-w-with the reports. To do typing and shifting...no, sorting and she worked. Helped me. And wh-when she was f-f-forbidden, sh-she began to try to secret and to hidden.”

Hanzo’s eyes were almost closed and his hoarse voice was slowly growing quieter. “She brought me stuff. You have.... She would hide the fruit and rice and—. Took my dry cleaners and suits. Runs like a rabbit.”

Genji sighed and helped his brother lay down. Hanzo was getting sleepy and he could push the muscular man down. The pain killer would keep him comfortable. “She sounds... nice. Takes care of—.”

“She takes care.” Abruptly his voice cracked as he tried to roll over. He sobbed, “I cannot even... gift. Not even a necklace. Or a day off. She saves and tries—. And gives me... a cake and a bow. She has nothing.... No savings. Nothing. She will be...a a-a-a slave to us for th-th-t-the r-r-rest of her l-l-life because of it. Because of me.

“W-w-why does she do this?” His voice was wet and strained. “Why does she, Genji? She takes... care of me. Buys car-ar-nations for Mother and gifts f-f-for me. Why? Sh-sh-she knows I have n-n-nothing. Why does she...do this? I do not know. Do... not know.”

“But she— she loves you.”

“She should not. Sh-sh-should not.”

“Why on earth not?”

Hanzo wove and his voice cracked into a sob. “She will-will die.”

“What?”

Hanzo croaked an aching laugh. “Like... like Mother.” Genji shook his head. “I-I was bad. I r-r-ran out in... in the rain. She chased... chased me and got... got sick.” Suddenly, he gripped his brother’s shirt in tight fists. “It’s my fault. M-m-my fault she... she is gone—she chased after me and got sick.... So sick.”

Genji recoiled and turned pale. “Han—anija—what are you saying?!”

He crumpled and moaned, his head about touching the thin futon. “She.... I told her I... didn’t want to come i-i-i-in and go to be-e-ed. I r-ran out into the storm a-a-and told her she couldn’t c-catch me. She-e-e chased me and w-we ran into the gardens. Wet. We were both wet. And she... got sick. D-d-didn’t get better—even with th-the doctor. And she died b-because of me!

“Akane.... She l-l-loved me and she died. And then no one else c-can love me. And if Akan-n-ne l-l-loves me, she will die too.” He sobbed again and tears were running down his cheeks. “She... I am not alone... with her. I do... do not want her t-t-to die.”

Genji sighed impatiently as Hanzo’s eyes closed and he slipped into unconsciousness. Clumsily, he dug around and pulled a sheet over his brother. Kibo quietly whispered to him encouraging words and hums of approval. He slipped out and slid the door closed.

Why had he...? There weren’t any words to cover his confusion over what he had mentally lumped into “What Hanzo Said”. And it didn’t make any sense. Why would Father hobble one of his sons like that? Why would anyone put the clan—the family at risk like that? Why didn’t someone stop it? All he had was questions with no answers.

Or answers that were too terrible to think about.


End file.
